Risveglio di un Nuovo Mondo
by Miles333
Summary: AU During Fool Me Once, Damon didn't get out of the tomb in time, and was trapped. Five years later, he manages to escape. How have things changed in the outside world? And why are the citizens of Mystic Falls so afraid? *Delena*
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Yay! My first multi-chapter _VD_ fic! *cheers excitedly* I hope all of you enjoy it, especially since it's AU. _Anything_ can happen…and it'll also get us through until September. :D

**Summary:** AU During _Fool Me Once_, Damon didn't get out of the tomb in time, and was trapped. Five years later, he manages to escape. How have things changed in the outside world? And why are the citizens of Mystic Falls so afraid? *Delena*

* * *

Prologue

Damon's head was pounding, and he was having a very hard time keeping himself from lashing out at Stefan. Katherine wasn't in the tomb. All the other vampires that were supposed to be present were there, but _she_ wasn't. The most important one. The one he had come to save.

Stefan was still talking, as he had been ever since coming in after him. "Damon, we need to get out of here," he said urgently, brow furrowed as it usually was.

"It doesn't make sense. They locked her inside," Damon muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He glanced around the shadowy cavern, enhanced vision skimming over the darkness and searching beneath it for any important detail he could be overlooking. Needless, to say there was nothing. Nothing at all.

"If we don't leave now, we're _not getting out_," Stefan said, words bouncing off the sturdy rock walls. He looked about thirty seconds from running for his life, he was that frantic.

"How could she not be in here?" Damon felt truly dead, for the very first time in all his second life. He couldn't bring himself to understand what was happening. Where the _hell_ was Katherine?

Annoyingly, his little brother was still blathering on. "It's not worth spending all of eternity down here. She's _not worth it_."

"No!" Damon shouted, the single word sounding more like a noise of an agitated animal than actual language. He spun around to face Stefan, already seeing a perfectly clear vision in his mind's eye. It was of himself killing the brother he had taunted and _not_ killed for so long. The rash action seemed a big waste, but Damon fiercely told himself he didn't care, preparing to strike.

"Damon!" For a moment, his entire body went rigid. His eyes flashed towards the familiar voice, then he saw Elena's face, pale in the beam of her flashlight. His shoulders slumped, and he steeled his expression. "_Please_," she begged him, glancing towards Stefan as she spoke. It was clear who she really wanted to escape tonight.

He stared at her a second longer, just to prove he didn't take orders from her, then abruptly straightened his leather jacket. Expression remaining a stony frown, he strode briskly towards her, determined to keep his mind away from the crushing failure he'd just experienced. Stefan patted him on the back as he fell in step beside him, though he was blessedly silent. Damon wasn't in the mood for any more mindless chatter at the moment.

Elena's steady steps faltered as they neared the entrance, and she looked over her shoulder. Damon's chest constricted at her beautiful face, so like Katherine's that he literally couldn't breathe. "Damon…I'm sorry that you didn't find her," she said. And he actually believed that she meant it.

"Elena! Elena, _please_! Grams and I can't – we can't–" Bonnie's breathless voice suddenly broke off, making her muffled warning all the more significant.

Stefan stepped around his fellow vampire and touched Elena's shoulder. "Come on. They're not going to be able to hold it up much longer," he said. He waited until she nodded, then jogged forward, around the rocky corner that jutted out to block a direct exit.

Damon couldn't bring himself to follow. He turned and stared listlessly in the direction they had come, though he felt no hope. "Where the hell _is_ she?" he breathed, mentally cursing himself when his voice cracked.

"Don't torture yourself like this." Her voice was soft yet commanding as she walked slowly towards him. Damon steadily met her gaze, refusing to show weakness. She wasn't Katherine, and never would be. "Maybe she's out there somewhere. You can still find her."

He shook his head, excruciatingly stubborn. "She's supposed to be here. She's supposed to be _in here_, damn it!" he roared.

Elena's eyes widened, but she didn't step away. Instead, she reached out and took his hand. Her touch was warm, and he could easily smell her tantalizing blood from where he stood. "Come on, Damon. We need to leave," she said.

"Elena!" Stefan sounded vaguely alarmed, his voice faint from safety outside the tomb.

Damon scowled darkly at her, knowing by the way she kept her eyes focused on his that she wouldn't leave without him. Elena was certainly perfect for his little brother. They were both kind, almost to a fault. "Let's get out of here," he said bitterly, fighting to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He allowed her to continue holding his hand, and they quickly took the few remaining steps towards the entrance.

He paused there, taking in the sight of Bonnie and her witchy grandmother as they held hands and chanted their mysterious spell. The torches still flickered weakly in a circle around them, but Damon wasn't the least bit impressed.

"Oh my God, Grams. I can't _do_ this!" Bonnie cried, eyes pressed closed. She looked beyond weak, and sweat was clearly beading across her flawless brow.

"We're almost done, baby. Just hold on a bit _longer_," her grandmother urged her in a shaking voice, not looking all that well herself.

Elena looked up at him, then took her hand from his. She started away from him, towards Stefan. That's when the shaking started.

Damon's head jerked, and he stared at the ceiling above them, startled. It was violently shuddering, small bits of rock crumbling free. It was almost painfully obvious what was going to happen next. In the same instant, Stefan shouted Elena's name, apparently also realizing the truth. He lunged forward, evidently hoping to save her.

Damon reacted instantly, and shoved her forward without bothering to be gentle. She gasped, and landed in a heap on the dirt just outside the entrance of the tomb. She rolled over onto her back and stared in horror, just as there came a thunderously loud rumbling sound.

The last thing Damon heard was Elena screaming his name. Then the tomb collapsed on top of him, and everything became dark and silent.

**

* * *

**

Please review if you have any spare time. The first chapter should be posted soon. :D


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks so much for reviewing on the prologue, everyone. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! :D

* * *

Chapter One

Time had no meaning.

He woke often, to excruciating pain and unpenetrable darkness. Even _his_ eyes couldn't pierce it, which meant there was nothing worth seeing. Only shadows.

His throat burned constantly, even in unconsciousness, thirsting for blood he couldn't drink. He could feel his skin withering whenever he woke for brief – or maybe it was long; who knew – moments of time, but couldn't bring himself to care. So what if he no longer looked devilishly handsome. There was no one here to see him.

But after what could have been millennia, or only a few days, the horrible monotony ceased. Something changed.

He jolted to awareness to find himself in even more pain than before. His gums were throbbing as his fangs tried to force their way through, and his head pounded. He didn't see the point in opening his eyes, when there was only darkness, but for some reason he did. That's why he saw the light.

A small beam of sunshine filtered through a crack right beside his head, illuminating the tiny mites of dust that his slight movements stirred up. A warm breeze caressed his battered skin, and birds were chirping.

Damon immediately snapped to attention, focusing all of his energy on staring at that tiny crack. It was a portal to the outside world, if he could only make this work. He could get free, go back to Stefan and to the real world. To…Elena. He hadn't thought of life outside this hellhole for God knew how long, but now the simple crack reawakened strong yearnings inside him.

He had to get free. He had to get _out_.

He tried to twist his body under the rubble that was piled atop him, but his body was too weak. It wasn't made of strong muscle any longer, after going so long without nourishment. He was weak and tired, and could barely move.

"Preston, get away from there! You're going to get yourself _killed_, boy!" A man's irritated voice, coming from outside the rubble that had once been the tomb. He sounded very much human, a typical father trying to keep his son out of trouble.

Damon went still, and slowly took a deep breath. The tantalizing scent of fresh, pulsing blood filled his lungs. He gasped aloud as his fangs finally forced their way through, instinctively. The skin below his eyes cracked painfully, his body's way of preparing to feed. He needed to drink the blood of the humans outside, and he needed to do it _now_.

Forcing his fangs back to their proper places among his other teeth, Damon closed his eyes for several seconds. The skin under his eyes reluctantly smoothed back out. Hand shaking, Damon raised one hand to the tiny hole. He poked a finger through it, waggling it around outside in the fresh air. "Help me. Please…help me," he managed to croak, voice strangely foreign to his own ears.

A young boy screamed just outside, and the same man's voice swore. "Is someone down there?" Something like fabric brushed against his finger, but Damon didn't remove it from the hole. He didn't know how long he'd been down here, so he had no idea how withered his skin looked. There was no need for the humans to see that he was a living corpse until they'd already dug him out.

"I'm…trapped. Help me," he rasped weakly, eyes closing with the effort of speaking in an audible tone.

"Okay, son. We're gonna get you out of there. Preston, get my pickax from the back of the truck!" the man shouted, presumably to his son.

Damon relaxed, trying to conserve energy. He pulled his finger back into the tomb, and sluggishly curled into a small ball on the stone floor. It seemed in the silence that followed almost as though the human had left him, until he heard the sound of something hitting the rubble atop him. He felt the strong vibration all down his back, and a chunk of rock fell away with an echoing clatter.

Impossible. How was a _human_ freeing him from the tomb with just a _pickax_? If it was capable for _him_, then why hadn't Stefan simply lifted the rocks out of the way and pulled him out ages ago? Unless…Stefan had _wanted_ to leave his only brother to suffer like this for all eternity. Maybe Elena had put him up to it, and they had both cackled to themselves about their nefarious plan all this time. Or maybe that little witch Bonnie had done it. That was also possible. She and her grandmother both hated his guts, oddly enough.

Damon stopped these thoughts in their tracks. Now he was clearly delusional. _Elena_ would never leave him buried alive in this godforsaken place, he was sure of it. But an immeasurable amount of time had passed, and he was full of both anger and insufferable hunger. He wanted someone to blame for his problems. The only problem was that he didn't know who.

"Almost there, son! Hang on!" the man called down to him.

He didn't open his eyes, but he could feel warm rays of sunlight touching him. He'd almost forgotten what the sun felt like. All he'd known for so long now was darkness.

"Okay, give me your hand, son. No, Preston, _stay back_." The enticing scent of blood was suddenly even closer than before, and Damon's senses flared with awareness. His eyes flashed open to find a tanned arm reaching down to him, hand straining to touch his.

Damon reached slowly for the hand, unable to tear his eyes from the visible veins just below the skin of the man's wrist. They were a very pale blue, the blood rushing through them just waiting to be tapped.

The hand grabbed his, then another joined the first one. Damon's rescuer grunted with strain as he slowly hauled the vampire from the rubble, out into the world. Damon's eyes burned as dazzling sunlight seemed to reflect off everything like it was made of polished glass. The light seemed brilliant compared to the murky gloom that he'd been used to for so long.

He hit the grass, rolling over twice before coming to sudden stop against the rough bark of a tree. Facedown in grass that was almost blindingly green, Damon inhaled appreciatively through his nose. He couldn't help thinking that he'd been trapped too damn long if he thought even the grass looked welcoming.

"You okay, kid? How long were you trapped down there? And how'd you get stuck there in the first place?" The man leaned over him, shadow rudely blocking out the dazzling sunlight.

Damon allowed a small smile to cross his lips, then his fangs burst free. He turned over onto his back and looked silently up at his rescuer. The man was bearded and disheveled, but that didn't stop his blood from smelling perfectly alluring.

It took the man several seconds to realize what he was looking at – death – then turned to run for his life. "Preston, get to the car! _Run_!" he screamed, voice ringing with primeval terror.

Damon didn't allow him to get more than two inches, then pounced. The leap to his feet sucked up much of his dwindling energy, but he managed to wrap his arms around the man's shoulders and jerk him to a stop. Ignoring the bothersome screaming, he pulled his head back to get a better look. Taking a moment to locate the perfect vein, he struck in a blur of motion, as easily as a coiled snake.

His fangs pierced skin, and glorious blood began pouring down his throat. He closed his eyes in ecstasy, strength already beginning to return to both his body and mind. With a single mental command, the man's screams stopped; he went limp in Damon's arms for him to do with what he wished.

He was already making plans for what he would do when he was finished here (drink more blood, down some alcohol, find Stefan again and taunt him for a while, drink blood, bother Elena, drink blood) when he heard the sobbing. It took all his willpower to tear both fangs from the man's neck, but he did.

Then he saw the little boy standing a few yards away, tears rolling down his cheeks and face pale with horror and fear. This could only be Preston, his victim's son. "Aren't you afraid, _boy_?" Damon said darkly, knowing that blood was grotesquely smeared across his chin.

"Please. Don't hurt my daddy. He's supposed to be taking me fishing for my birthday. Please don't hurt him," the boy whimpered, chin trembling.

Something inside Damon snapped, and he discontentedly licked the last drops of blood from his unwilling donor's neck. Stepping away, he let the man fall to a heap in the ground. Not even sure why he was doing it, he captured both human minds and skillfully manipulated them to forget he'd ever existed.

"There you go, kid," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "As soon as both of you wake up, you can go fishing. And thanks for the rescue." He mimed tipping a hat, then turned and disappeared into the cool shadows of the forest. He could almost forget that he'd been buried in the tomb all this time, if not for the ache in his entire body and slight limp in his left leg.

"What the hell was _that_ about, Salvatore?" he grumbled to himself, brow creasing with displeasure at his own behavior. "You're acting more like Stefan than _he_ does. Sparing innocent lives, blah blah blah." But he couldn't help wondering if being inside the tomb for this long had screwed with his marbles a little.

Someone screamed.

Damon froze, then turned and hurried back in the direction he had come. His jog was slightly uneven, so he didn't get there was fast as he would have liked. But when he did, he found the clearing beside the tomb strangely…empty. There was no sign of the little boy and his father anywhere around. They were simply…gone.

"What the hell?" he said, turning in a slow circle to study his surroundings. There was something _off_ about the previously peaceful forest around him. Something abnormal stirred in the undergrowth, though wherever he turned to look, nothing was there.

Damon harshly told himself he didn't care, then turned and walked away into the trees.

He didn't notice the gleaming eyes watching him from the shadows.

* * *

A man with dark gray hair moved at a respectful pace into the mayor's office, waiting until Mayor Lockwood motioned for him to speak. "There was a vampire sighted in the woods today, sir."

"_What_?" Lockwood's voice rang out in the darkened office, and the gray-haired man winced. "You'd better be joking about this, Haddix."

Haddix slowly shook his head. "No, sir. I saw a human male and his son dig the vampire out the rubble by where the old church used to be. He turned on them and drank the father's blood, then wiped their memory."

The mayor was frowning. "Did you bring them in?"

"We took care of them."

Lockwood nodded. "Good. And what about the vampire? Was he one of Katherine's?"

"He definitely wasn't an associate of Ms. Pierce's. And I'm afraid he got away. But he wasn't in the best of shape, and he won't be gone long," Haddix said.

"And how do you plan to catch him? He's probably gone into hiding by now, if he knows what's good for him." Lockwood reclined in his desk chair, fingers forming a temple before him.

"He was headed into town when I last saw him. And he didn't seem to realize we were there, Mayor. Who knows how long he was stuck in that rubble, after all."

Lockwood sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. "All right. Do whatever it takes, and _find him_."

"We will, sir. I'll take the others out on patrol." Haddix walked briskly out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

* * *

Damon took the most secluded route to Elena's house, choosing it over the mansion he shared with Stefan. If he knew one thing about his brooding brother, he knew that Stefan would prefer Elena's company over anyone else's. So it made sense that they'd both be there.

It took him about half an hour to reach his destination, especially since he was still weak. His throat still ached with thirst, but nothing unbearable.

Reaching the Gilbert home, Damon glanced around furtively at the empty street, then warily walked up the front steps. Without ringing the bell or knocking, he slipped inside. Not that he had any real urge to catch Stefan and Elena in a compromising situation, but he had no idea how long he'd been gone. And if the aunt or brother were the only ones in right now, he didn't want them seeing him.

Carefully pushing the door closed behind him, Damon glanced around the entry hall. It looked much the same as the last time he'd been here, except for the staircase. It was dull with age, not shining like it once had. This completely baffled him; how long had he been _gone_?

There came a small sound from further into the house, and Damon froze momentarily. Then he limped suspiciously down the hallway, rounding the corner and finding himself in the kitchen. A woman, her back to him, was unloading the dishwasher. Black-handled knives glittered as she put them away into a drawer.

He cleared his throat, and she stiffened. He walked closer to her, but tactfully left several feet of space between them. "I'm looking for Elena," he said politely, an undercurrent of menace running through his words. "I'm sure you've heard of her, since you're living in her house. Is she upstairs, or did she go to school? I'm not sure what time it is, so she could be–"

The woman spun around to face him, and he felt like he'd been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and was almost achingly familiar. Her cascading brown hair, inquisitive eyes, and beautiful face hadn't changed much, except for several small wrinkles. A jagged scar marred the pale skin of her temple, contrasting sharply with her soft features.

Swallowing hard, his voice came out as a shocked whisper. "_Elena_?"

"Damon," she snarled, face contorting with rage. She grabbed a knife before he could even blink, pressing it against the still-sensitive skin of his throat. He was forced to bend over backwards across the counter, struggling weakly to keep his balance, and a small trickle of blood oozed as the blade broke his skin. "What the hell do you want, you _bastard_?"

**

* * *

**

Okay, guys. I bet you want to know what's got Elena so ticked, right? Please review! :D


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks so much for reviewing, everybody! Here's the new chapter! :D

* * *

Chapter Two

Damon tried his very best not to move. He knew that in his weakened state, getting his throat sliced open definitely had the potential to sting a little. "I've gotten similar reactions from women everywhere, but I never expected one from _you_, Elena," he cracked, bracing himself on the counter with both hands.

Elena's already angry expression contorted with thunderous rage. "Shut up," she snapped. "I'll cut your head off, Damon, don't think I won't. I'm not the weak little girl you saw on your last trip through."

He blinked several times, wondering if he was actually still buried in the tomb. Maybe this was all some crazy dream. Or nightmare, really. If it had been a dream of his, there would be a lot less clothing and much more spilled blood. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. What did I ever do to _you_? Recently, anyway."

"Don't pretend you don't know," she growled.

The conversation was beginning to go around in circles. Damon eased out from under the blade in a blur of movement, throwing the knife across the room and pinning Elena's arms to her sides. He held her close, and both went still, staring into the other's eyes. Elena's chest heaved up and down, and her eyes were wide. Damon's eyelids lowered minutely as he stared at her lips.

"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered.

He abruptly let her go, stung at the accusation and apprehension in her voice, and stepped away. "Don't worry, _darling_. Your womanly virtues aren't in any danger from me. No more than normal." Noticing from the corner of his gaze that her virtues were actually much more womanly than before, Damon folded his arms. "I just want you to tell me what the hell is going on. And why you've suddenly gone and pulled a Rip Van Winkle on me."

Elena stepped uncertainly away from him, slowly sagging against the counter behind her. Her hands were shaking. "You're not Rip Van Winkle. And it's been five years since you've seen me, so of _course_ I'm older." Her tone indicated that she didn't believe his mental health to be in a very good state.

Damon felt, for the second time that day, as though he'd been punched in the gut. "Five years? Since…since _what_?" he demanded.

She stared at him, a question looming in her eyes. "Since you turned...since you turned Stefan over to Katherine." Her mouth trembled.

His jaw sagged. "I _what_?"

She sighed loudly, still defensive. "Is some new game of yours, Damon? Something you've come up with to keep yourself entertained? Did you get bored taunting Stefan and murdering innocent people with Katherine?"

Starting to get angry, Damon suppressed the wild urge to break everything he could get his hands on. "Why do you keep mentioning Katherine? I thought you were over little Stefan keeping her a secret from you all this time."

Her eyes were like shards of ice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You and Mr. Broody got all hot and heavy, and you apparently found some incriminating bit of evidence about his ex. This prompted you to go and get yourself in a nasty little car accident. We went to Georgia."

Elena just stared. "I haven't thought about that in years."

"Don't you get it? It hasn't _been_ years, Elena! I don't know if you've hit your head or what, but that was only a couple of months ago. A while before your witchy little friend let the tomb collapse on top of me." Damon compellingly waggled both eyebrows. "Ringing a bell, Ms. Gilbert?"

She gaped at him, and seemed to be having some trouble breathing. "But, Damon–"

"The last thing that happened to me was the tomb," Damon said. "I've been in there all this time, apparently for five years, waiting for Stefan to get me out. But he was too busy, I guess." He couldn't keep the bitter tone from his voice.

"Are…are you telling me that you've been there all this time?" Elena gasped, the fight visibly going out off her. Her shoulders slumped. "_Five years_?"

He shrugged, attempting nonchalance even when he couldn't believe that five years of his undead life had already gone by. He'd undoubtedly missed dozens of new soap opera-like twists and turns. But he'd always thought Stefan would turn into his beloved an immortal long before now. Was he _mental_? "Where else would I have been?" he said, answering her dazed question.

Elena reached out, as though to touch her battered cheek, but hastily dropped her hand again. "Then…you didn't really do it. Everything she said was a lie," she said, realization dawning on her face. "I should have known. That _bitch_!"

Damon couldn't stop his eyes from widening. "Who, Bonnie?" The witch popped into his mind at the most inopportune moments. And he could just see her poisoning Elena's mind against him, especially since he'd drank her blood for revenge against Emily that time.

"No. _Katherine_," Elena snarled.

For a minute, he thought she was crazy. Then he realized that he needed to let her explain things. The wrinkles under her eyes and the scar on her temple told him that what she said about five years passing was undeniably true. Something weird was going on. "Just tell me your side of the story, Elena. I'll listen."

Elena exhaled unevenly, and sank into a kitchen chair. She didn't take her eyes from Damon, swallowing hard. "After the tomb collapsed, Stefan tried to get you out. He really did. But there was too much debris; I practically dragged him away. He took Bonnie and her grandmother home, and I went inside with her. I stayed for a few minutes, but…she died. Bonnie's grandmother. I guess it was the strain of trying to keep the tomb open for so long, but she couldn't survive–"

Damon impatiently waved a hand, using the other to rub the healing wound on his throat. "I don't particularly care about the witch and her grandmother. If the story could move along a bit faster, now?"

She glared at him. "You said you'd _listen_," she said.

He immediately realized his mistake. "And I will. Just…keep going," he said. His throat had started burning again, and his legs were aching. He needed to sit down, but his pride wouldn't let him.

Taking another deep breath, Elena cleared her throat and kept going. "It all started about a week later. Stefan was attacked by several vampires, and almost couldn't fend them off. They were too strong. Bonnie and I tried to help, but Stefan accidentally flung her away and broke her arm. Bonnie was angry, understandably so, and nothing I said could calm her down. After we took her to the hospital, she wouldn't answer my calls and IMs, and totally ignored me at school. She thought it was Stefan's fault she broke her arm."

"It was," Damon said helpfully.

Elena went on like she hadn't even heard him. "She's barely spoken to me since that day, and has been incredibly distant. Then Katherine came, and everything changed."

Damon went still. "K…Katherine?" he stuttered, completely floored.

"She took Stefan, and came to meet me. She said you had freed yourself from the tomb and gone to her. She said you'd decided to team up with her and take down Mystic Falls. We fought, and she gave me this." Elena gestured to her scar. "Jeremy and Jenna came to help me, but…but Jenna was killed. Katherine drained all her blood."

She was shaking now, and Damon didn't feel much better. He could hardly believe what she was saying. Katherine had come back to Mystic Falls? Told Elena that he was working with her?

"Katherine brought a bunch of new vampires she'd turned with her, and took over the whole town. She told everyone about the existence of vampires, and threatened them with death if they told anyone. She got Mayor Lockwood and his cronies on her side, and took several people hostage. She's been holding them all this time. Other than that, everything's still going on as normal. As normal as possible. We've…we've adapted."

"Took over the _town_? How this that even _possible_?" Damon demanded.

"Katherine did it, and more." Elena hesitated, swallowing hard. "Damon, you wouldn't believe how cold she is. How ruthless. She's ruling this town with an iron fist, and there's no room for slipping up."

Damon's head was spinning, and he steadied himself on the counter. "How is she keeping the townspeople from attacking her?"

"I don't know. But she has something Jonathon Gilbert invented, something that puts a perception filter around the town. Anyone who tries to leave forgets everything about her and the vampires until they come back within the official city limits. It...happened to me, about four years ago."

He was silent for several moments, trying to process everything he'd been told. "Stefan? Where is he?"

She bowed her head. "I haven't seen him since Katherine took him. She's told me he's still alive, but…"

Damon's legs finally gave out on him, and he toppled involuntarily to the floor. He ignored Elena's startled cry, staring hazily into nothing. There was a loud pounding in his ears. Katherine was here in Mystic Falls, and she had taken his brother hostage. There was no way of knowing if he was even still alive. Or as alive as an undead bloodsucker could be, anyway.

"Damon?" A hand that was blissfully warm brushed against his cheek, and he flinched. Looking up slowly, he met Elena's eyes. "You saved my life that night. In the tomb. If you'd escaped and left me there, I'd be dead right now."

"If I'd escaped, Katherine probably would have done what was good for her and stayed away," he said forebodingly, shoving himself into a sitting position.

Elena was crouched before him, and her provoking throat was much too close. "I still can't believe you've been in that tomb for five _years_," she said.

"Neither can I," he said.

"And your neck…it still hasn't healed all the way." She was leaning even closer, blushing faintly as she peered with fascination at his throat. "I'm…_really_ sorry for that, by the way. I thought..." She trailed off, then spontaneously wrapped her arms around him for a quick hug.

The vampire relaxed into her affectionate embrace, closing his eyes. Several moments passed, then his gums started to ache, alerting him to the danger of their situation. "Elena, don't," he said quickly, pushing her away. She fell backwards with a muted thud, expression shocked. "I'm still…I was in that tomb for five years, okay? I only fed a little before I came here, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to get very close to me right now."

She frowned. "Damon, you need to get your strength back. Then maybe…"

"What?" he asked, trying valiantly not to think about how delicious her blood smelled.

"Well…I thought we could rescue Stefan. Get him out and bring him back here. Stop Katherine…"

"I'm not some fabled knight in shining armor, Elena. I'm a _vampire_. All I care about is blood, sex, and violence. Why should I care if my ex has kidnapped your boyfriend?"

Elena reacted as though she'd been slapped, reeling backwards away from him. "I know you don't really feel like that, Damon," she said quietly.

"Do you?" He bared his teeth, and her expression told him that the gesture had the frightening effect he'd hoped for. "How do you know I'm not going to grab you and drink your blood right _now_?"

"You won't."

"I could kill you."

"You won't." Her voice was firmer now, and she moved closer to him once again. "I _know_ you, Damon. You won't kill me. And you _do_ care about Stefan, otherwise you wouldn't have haunted him all this time."

Unable to think of a suitable retort, he settled for scowling instead. "I'll think about it. But I'm not Superman, and I need to regain my strength before taking down some bizarre vampire regime." _And before seeing Katherine again,_ he added silently.

Her unexpected smile was like the sun breaking out from behind a cloud. She held out her wrist and pulled the sleeve back, obviously an impromptu gesture. "Here. Take some of my blood. It'll make you strong again."

Damon was shocked, unable to look away. "...I can't..." he said. He'd dreamed about tasting her blood for months, and the chance had finally presented itself. The only problem was…he couldn't do it. He didn't want to take advantage of her that way. She was Stefan's, even if he was currently missing in action. He'd claimed her first.

"What are you talking about?" Elena impatiently scooted closer, still brandishing her wrist. "Don't be stupid. You help me, I help you. End of story."

But before he could reply, the doorbell rang.

Elena and Damon both went still, staring in the direction of the front door. Damon slowly got to his feet, bracing himself on the counter, and Elena followed suit. "Your brother?" he asked edgily.

"Jere? No way. He's at a friend's tonight." Elena's gaze flitted towards his, then she hurried across the room and picked up her knife from earlier. Staring at the glistening blade for a moment, she then slipped it into the back of her jeans.

"You're not expecting anyone?"

"Not tonight," she said in a hard voice. She started across the room, towards the front door. The bell rang again, insistently.

"Don't, Elena. It could be…" His voice trailed off. He didn't know who he expected to be waiting at the door when Elena opened it, but he didn't have a very good feeling.

"It'll only look suspicious if I don't answer it," Elena insisted, pausing to glance over her shoulder at him. "Stay in here and _don't_ be seen." She disappeared out into the hallway.

Damon took a deep breath, tensing as he prepared to defend Elena as best he could. He listened as she reached the door, and opened it.

**

* * *

**

***For any of you who don't know, _Rip Van Winkle _is a story**** published in 1819, about a man who falls asleep and doesn't wake up for twenty years.* And I would really appreciate some reviews! :D**


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Hmm, nothing much to say here. *looks musing* Enjoy the update! :D

* * *

Chapter Three

"_Mr. Haddix. I wasn't really expecting any guests this evening."_ Elena's voice sounded tinny through the wall as Damon eavesdropped. He eased closer to the wall to hear better.

"_Sorry to bother you, Ms. Gilbert. We're performing a door-to-door search. Very routine, nothing to worry about."_ The unfamiliar, male voice was smooth and a bit too friendly. Damon thought it sounded like one a politician might use.

"_A…a search?"_ Elena's voice faltered. _"The house is a mess; I was just doing some dishes in the kitchen. I'm not sure you–"_

"_It doesn't matter,"_ the man, Haddix, said easily. _"We'll just perform the search and then leave. Don't worry about a thing. Tennant, go with Ms. Gilbert and check the kitchen area. Shannon and Murray, check the rest of the downstairs. I'll check the upper floor."_

"_Yes, sir."_

The sound of several pairs of footsteps, one of them heading up the staircase.

"_Um…right this way," _came Elena's voice. She was obviously nervous, and Damon hoped she could manage to hold herself together. _"Again, sorry about the mess. I'll just keep doing dishes while you search the kitchen." _

Her last sentence seemed abnormally loud, and Damon's brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened as he realized what she was trying to warn him of. He sprang towards the set of French doors leading to the back yard, opened one, and slipped away into the back yard. The sky was darkening as he darted towards a tree and stood in its thick shadows.

"_I believe that door is open, Ms. Gilbert,"_ Tennant noted suspiciously, as Damon continued to listen in on the conversation.

"_Yeah, sorry, it gets sort of hot in here sometimes. The air conditioner has been acting up a little. I've been meaning to get someone out here to fix it."_ Elena's silhouette passed in front of the curtains that were drawn against the doors, and one of them snapped shut. "_So, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you guys looking for? If it's illegal amounts of dust, make sure not to look under my brother's bed." _She laughed awkwardly, but Tennant didn't laugh with her.

"_I'm afraid that's classified information."_ A cabinet door opened and closed. _"What's this on the tile?"_ There was a brief moment of silence, and Damon felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. _"I'm afraid it looks awfully like blood, Ms. Gilbert."_

Damon swore silently, wondering how Elena could get out of this. He unconsciously reached up to touch the wound on his throat, which was still healing.

"_It's…yeah, it's blood. I cut myself earlier, while I was washing the dishes." _

A long pause. _"You should really get that looked at. Oh, Mr. Haddix. Find anything?"_

"_Nothing. What about the rest of you?"_ Haddix asked, having apparently entered the room. There was chorus of nos. _"Good. Sorry to bother you, Ms. Gilbert. We'll be going now, and thank you for your time."_

Damon listened as Elena politely saw them out, then used a burst of speed to blur back into the house. This time, he made sure to firmly close the door behind him. Just as he had finished with the door, Elena walked back into the room. Her face was pale.

"Damon, thank God you hid somewhere. I thought for sure that we were going to come in and find you here."

"What, you think I'm stupid?" he said indignantly, folding his arms and glaring at her. "I'm over a hundred years old. I've learned enough to recognize a warning when I hear one."

She smiled tightly at him, crossing the room to stand at the sink. She turned the water on, and held a hand under the cold flow. "Very funny, Damon."

"How did you manage to convince him that the blood on the floor was yours? I hate to tell you this, but you didn't cut your hand. You cut my _throat_." He raised both eyebrows, but she didn't seem amused.

"Remember that knife I had? It was easy enough to cut myself to fool Haddix and his men." Elena turned around and held up the hand she'd been rinsing, her expression blank.

Damon couldn't keep his mouth from sagging open, or his eyes from widening. "Elena," he whispered, trying to hide his horror. A jagged tear sliced across her left palm, crimson blood oozing freely from the torn skin. He could tell from where he stood that it was very deep, and probably needed stitches.

"I'll be fine," she said, grabbing a towel and pressing it against the wound in an attempt to cease the bleeding. She grimaced, obviously trying to keep him from knowing just how much the deep cut hurt her. "I did what had to be done, to keep Haddix and his men from being suspicious. End of story."

Damon felt the telltale throbbing in his guns, and the sharp pain under his eyes. He quickly turned away from her, massaging his face with one hand. "You need to bandage that," he muttered, trying to force his fangs to stay where they belonged.

"Are you…?" The sound of her swallowing hard was audible from across the room. "You really _aren't_ doing very well, are you? I've never…I've never seen you lose control before."

"I'll be fine," he said harshly, echoing her words from moments earlier and turning back to face her. He strode towards her, grabbing the towel and pulling it from her grasp. He gently took her hand in his, palm-up, and peered down at the wound. He ignored her startled gasp, fighting his animal urges to tear into her throat at the same time. "It doesn't look very bad. You should be fine, but you might need stitches."

She nodded shakily. "I'll get some bandages from the bathroom in a minute. Damon, why do you think they were doing a search?" she said hesitantly.

Damon released her hand and stepped away. He didn't want to ruin his tough reputation by being kind to his brother's girlfriend when she was hurt. He hoped it would be chalked up to his time in the tomb, and that Elena would quickly forget about the tender gesture. "I think it's obvious. They know someone's here in town who isn't supposed to be."

"Who?"

"Duh, Elena darling. Me. I felt someone watching me in the woods today, after I got out of the tomb. Whoever it was probably alerted Haddix and his goons that there's a new player in town."

Elena's mouth formed an O of surprise. "Oh my God. We've got to keep Katherine from finding out that you're here. She'll kill Stefan."

Damon couldn't help feeling hurt. Of course she wasn't worried for his safety, not that he needed her concern. She was worried about her precious Stefan, as usual.

Abruptly turning on his heel, he marched wordlessly for the French doors.

"Damon, where are you going?"

He turned to look at her a final time, smiling coldly. "Out. Unless _you'd_ prefer to be tonight's main course." Without waiting for an answer, he opened the doors and vanished into the night.

* * *

Tyler Lockwood sat in a booth in the Mystic Grill, one of the more secluded ones. He was alone, leaning back against the leather seat and grimly sipping a bottle of beer. He hadn't seen anyone he knew tonight, which was just how he liked it. More importantly, no sign of his father. It was all he could do to stay out from under his father's thumb. For someone in his early twenties, he was kept on a remarkably tight leash, though not of his choosing. He hadn't even been allowed to move out of the house yet.

"Tyler. I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

He looked up reluctantly, sighing heavily. "Mr. Saltzman."

"Call me Alaric. We're not in the classroom anymore." The man was silent a moment, then gestured towards the empty seat across from his former student. "Is this seat taken?"

Tyler shrugged, taking a generous sip of his beer. "It depends. Are you planning on ratting me out to my dad?"

"Why? You're a free man, an adult. None of my business." Alaric sat down, then watched Tyler take another sip. "Things must be bad, if you're hitting the alcohol."

"What, things aren't _already_ bad? My father controlling my every move, vampires running the town. What's left to be good about this place?"

Alaric chuckled. "The way you said that, I assume you place your father's scheming as the worst thing, over the vampires."

Tyler nodded, like this much was obvious.

"I heard that your father hit you at a council luncheon last week." Alaric paused, frowning. "Is he abusing you, Tyler?"

"Of course not. I'm a man now, remember? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." He slouched down in his seat.

"Just know that I'll be glad to provide assistance if you ever need any help."

He nodded shortly.

A waiter came over, and the conversation paused as Alaric gave his order of a hamburger, fries, and a large coke. Then Tyler asked dryly, "So why are you here? Unless you came just to talk over the meaning of life with me."

"Well, I was supposed to be meeting someone here. But apparently he decided that his help wasn't available." Alaric frowned, looking troubled.

Tyler finished his beer, then shoved the bottle away. Before he could come up with a reply, his eyes landed on the man who'd just walked in. He swore under his breath, and Alaric turned to look over his shoulder. Mayor Lockwood, wearing one of his expensive suits, glanced around the room, then his eyes landed on the two of them. He strode over to their booth.

"Good evening, Mayor Lockwood. Nice night," Alaric said politely.

"Mr. Saltzman." The mayor then turned his full attention to his son. "What are you doing here, Tyler? Does your mother know you're here?"

"I'm out. And does it matter if she knows or not?" Tyler asked sullenly.

Clearing his throat, Alaric leaned back against his seat and tried to seem casual.

"You need to go somewhere else tonight. I'm having a meeting," the mayor snapped. He gestured impatiently at Tyler. "Come outside a minute. I want to have a word with you."

Tyler nodded without speaking, then got to his feet. With a halfhearted wave at Alaric, he followed his father outside. The evening air was cool, and shadows were rapidly descending. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Mayor Lockwood. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to tell you not to hang out with Alaric Saltzman anymore, son," he said, not seeming at all bothered by his son's attitude. "Things are about to change around here, and talking to that man isn't in your best interest."

"Just what are you insinuating, _Dad_?"

"Don't worry about it." Clapping one hand against Tyler's shoulder, Lockwood glanced up. "Now run along somewhere else for tonight. I have business to conduct." He turned and walked back into the Grill, pausing to hold the door open for Bonnie Bennett.

Tyler paused and looked thoughtfully after the pair of them, then turned and walked down the sidewalk.

* * *

Damon was lurking outside the Salvatore mansion, where he had lived with Stefan five years earlier.

After taking out a pair of deer in the forest, he felt very refreshed. There was nothing he hated more than animal blood, but he hadn't wanted to risk hunting in town. When there was a very strong possibility that the keepers of Mystic Falls knew about his presence, the last thing he needed was to be caught feeding on some helpless individual.

Once he had drunk his fill, he'd had the brilliant idea of coming here. What better place for Katherine to base her operation and keep Stefan hostage? It wasn't just about convenience, he knew. Katherine was very crafty. She enjoyed psychological torture as well as physical. She undoubtedly been inflicting it upon Stefan for all the time he'd been her prisoner.

He still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that Katherine hadn't even been inside the tomb, even after so much time to dwell on it. All the years he'd spent searching for a way to free her had been in vain, as had his time spent trapped under heaps of rock. She had been perfectly free, and hadn't come to find him. She obviously didn't care about him anymore, as much as it hurt him to realize that.

Taking a deep breath, he scanned the black area around him with his heightened senses. Once he was satisfied that no one was around, he moved silently to one of the house's windows. It led into a room that neither of them had used very much, meant to be a second living area. And if luck was on his side, then no one had noticed the loose latch on the window, which he remembered having been there for years.

Raising a fist, he tapped sharply against the middle of the window pane. With a loud click, the loose latch fell away, leaving the window defenseless against him. Smirking, Damon pushed the window open and grabbed the wooden sill. He easily swung his body inside, and landed on the balls of his feet with a muted thud.

The room looked almost exactly how he remembered it, albeit with a few more layers of dust than the last time he'd been here. Even better, there were no signs of Katherine or any of her evil minions. This was really turning out to be his day.

Walking to the door, Damon cautiously opened it and looked up and down the hallway. Seeing no one, he slipped out and silently pulled the door closed behind him. Then he set off down the carpeted corridor, footsteps muffled. He hoped to find that Katherine was using Stefan's office as a headquarters, and possibly find some information there.

When he reached the correct door, he turned the knob and peered inside. Seeing no one, he slithered in and closed the door once more. The room looked almost the same as Stefan had kept it, with books and little Stefan-y knickknacks scattering the place. The only real difference was the dust coating his assortment of books, and the lack of clutter. It didn't really look like a vampire bachelor pad anymore.

Bingo. Katherine was definitely basing her operations out of this room.

Damon idly wondered how lucky he could continue to be before his good fortune eventually ran out, walking over to the enormous wooden desk. Pulling open the single drawer, he poked around inside for a moment.

Nothing remotely interesting was there to be found, except for several pens and a calendar. He flipped idly through it, and saw nothing incriminating marked on the pages. They were all blank. But he couldn't help gawking at today's date, which was the first of the blank squares not to be neatly marked off with an X. It was May 29, 2013; a Saturday. It was mindboggling, even for him.

Snapping the calendar closed and putting it away, he looked around the room. There wasn't any crafty, obvious-looking places to hide anything that he could see, such as information on where Stefan was being held prisoner. The only place he could think to look was the bookcase.

Striding over, he began taking down each book and flipping through it at vampire speed, careful not to disturb much of the dust. He remembered that Katherine was highly compulsive with her belongings. She could always tell when something had been moved.

He was nearly done looking through the entire collection of dusty tomes, when there was a slight noise behind him. It was the sound of the door brushing quietly open against the carpet, and too softly for a human's ears to pick up on. Damon reacted instantly, dropping the book in his hand and spinning around.

"Well, well, well. What have we got _here_?" One of the four vampires standing in the office's doorway smiled sinisterly, flashing a set of white fangs. Before Damon could react, he lunged for his throat.

**

* * *

**

Reviews = one happy writer + another quick update


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks so much to MissDK, Mystewitch, Silvery Rain, babykjf101, doodlechick12, bluestriker666, Ashi and Damon Salvatore, Fazerella, BlueJeans452, Kara.R.K, Lorien Urbani, and the golden magnolia for reviewing on the last chapter! :D

* * *

Chapter Four

Damon twisted his body out of the way at the last second, the vampire's reaching fingers barely brushing his leg. He miscalculated his own speed, and tripped over the upturned corner of a rug. Before he could react, his body slammed into the wall with a bone-shaking thud, and he dropped to the floor with a moan. "Damn it," he swore under his breath. His strength wasn't quite back yet, especially under the assault of four vampires.

So much for his streak of luck.

The vampire who had made the first move flexed the fingers of both hands, dropping into a crouch. A predatory smile crossed his face as he watched Damon's sluggish attempts to get up, skin beneath his eyes cracking. "And here I thought you had the potential to be a worthy opponent. I guess not," he leered.

Damon got to his feet, reaching up to touch a small trickle of blood on the side of his face. He felt hardly any pain from the small wound, and didn't even know how he'd gotten it. Abruptly dropping his hand, he focused his attention on the four vampires, gaze flicking back and forth between them. His fangs forced their way free from his gums, and small cracks formed under his eyes. He moved slowly into a crouch.

One of his attackers suddenly reacted, throwing himself at Damon with a bloodcurdling snarl. Damon sidestepped just in time, lashing out with a fist and hitting the other vampire across the jaw. Blood and broken teeth went everywhere, and the vampire landed hard under a set of windows. One down, three to go.

"You're going to regret that!" the first of the vampires growled. Damon tried to look unconcerned, and this only made the vampire angrier. He smoothly launched his body forward, Numbers Two and Three just behind him.

Avoiding a kick from Number Three, Damon stepped aside and twisted his body to steer clear of wild punch from Number Two. He struck with lightning speed at Number Two, who was closest, and rammed his head against the other vampire's. He staggered backwards with a grunt, shaking his head while trying to regain his bearings.

Damon couldn't help smirking. This was almost _too_ easy.

A fist slammed into the back of Damon's skull, and a flash of light exploded across his vision. Damon cried out in pain and dropped to his knees on the carpet, clutching his head with one hand and bracing himself against the floor with the other. Grimacing, he spun around onto his back and looked up. Number One loomed over him, leaning in for the kill.

Gritting his teeth in concentration, he drew back both legs and kicked out like a mule. The powerful blow caught Number One in the vicinity of his kneecaps, and he went down with a muffled oath. Number Two and Number Three, seeing their leader on the ground, hissed and raced towards Damon.

Launching himself to his feet, Damon reached for Number One, trying to finish him off before he could manage to gather his energy and attack again. But before Damon could even touch the other vampire, Number Three's fist loomed up into his face, smashing him in the jaw. Something cracked loudly, sounding like a gunshot. Another fast punch followed, this time to his eyes, before he could get out of the way. Blood streamed down his face, burning his sensitive eyes, and Damon gave an enraged roar.

He grabbed blindly for Number Three, wrapping both hands around his neck and twisting hard. There was a crack as Number Three's neck splintered, and he dropped soundlessly to the floor.

Number One and Number Two were coming at him again, like some kind of warped boomerangs. Their eyes blazed with rage, and Damon tensed as he waited for their coming assault. Sure enough, both slammed into him with the force of a freight train, shoving him backwards into the windows. The glass shattered, and pieces of glass rained down to the grass far below. Damon staggered, arms waving as he tried to regain his balance, then he spontaneously grabbed the wooden railing with both hands. Using it to balance, he swung his legs up into the air and kicked Number One under the chin.

Number One's neck snapped upwards, light fleeing from his eyes, and he slumped towards the carpet. Damon reacted instantly, wrapping his legs around Number One's waist and flinging him into the air. Still gripping the railing with all his strength, he swung his feet into the air over his head and pivoted so his legs were outside and his head was back inside the office. Releasing his grip on Number One's waist, the other vampire plummeted to the ground below.

Damon felt a brief surge of satisfaction, then a pair of hands wrapped around his throat. His eyes widened as clammy fingers clamped down on the wound across his neck, courtesy of Elena's knife, and he let go of the railing. Number Two dragged him backwards, slamming him to the carpet like a sack of flour. Damon's lungs felt flat without oxygen, and his hands scrabbled frantically for a grip on the strangling hold wrapped around his throat. Number Two snarled down at him, flashing his fangs, then blurred downward towards him.

He released his grip on Damon's neck, sinking his fangs into the skin half a second later. Damon's back arched from the carpet in pain as he felt the draining sensation of blood being pulled from his body against his will. He kicked both legs frantically, trying to find purchase to get back to his feet again. Number Two held him down almost effortlessly with one arm, drinking deeply.

Feeling about as weak as he had inside the tomb, Damon saw his vision starting to go gray around the edges. Swearing mentally at his own stupidity of getting himself into this mess, Damon managed to free an elbow from Number Two's stone grip. He reacted before Number Two could counter the movement, smashing his elbow into Number Two's nose. Blood spurted freely, and Number Two fell back with a cry, fangs slipping from his victim's bleeding neck.

Damon, though his entire body was shaking with fatigue, flipped to his feet. He stared down at Number Two for the briefest of moments, then brought his foot down on his assailant's throat. There was a gruesome crunching sound, then he unhurriedly took his foot away.

Body shaking with uncontrollable weariness, Damon leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. His entire face was throbbing in pain, and the back of his hand came away wet with blood when he wiped it across his face.

Squinting through the blood and sweat in his eyes, Damon surveyed the room once more. As soon as Katherine saw the mess, she would know he had been there. There was no way to hide it.

Wiping more of the blood from his eyes, he vaulted off the railing of the windows and into the darkness.

* * *

Tyler was still wandering aimlessly down the sidewalk, after leaving the Mystic Grill. He didn't have a particular destination in mind, though he knew for sure he wasn't planning to go home anytime soon. The last thing he needed was twenty questions from his mother.

Since leaving the Grill, he hadn't been feeling that stellar. Sweat ran in small rivers down the sides of his face, and his breathing seemed labored. Also, the colors of lighted signs he passed seemed too bright. He wondered idly if he'd drank too much, or if this was only an aftereffect of being around his father. He seemed more like a vampire than the real things, virtually draining the life out of you.

He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and leaning against a conveniently-placed lamppost. He rested one hand against his sweaty forehead, trying to force his pounding heartbeat into a slower rhythm. Unfortunately, his best efforts didn't seem to be working all that well.

"Tyler? Are you okay?"

He barely refrained from swearing aloud, opening his eyes. Was this a reunion night or something? First Alaric, now Caroline Forbes. Tyler mustered a somewhat pleasant smile at Caroline and Matt, who turned out to be standing beside her. They both looked at him with concern.

"Hey, Tyler. What's up, man?" Matt offered one hand for a friendly slap, but Tyler didn't move. His whole body was shaking violently, and his vision seemed a bit gray around the edges. "Is something wrong? You want me to drive you home?"

"Just…a bit too much to drink," Tyler grunted halfheartedly, words coming out in a forceful croak.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "God, you and your drinks. You know you're on a one-way track to AA, right?"

Tyler tried to make some cynical reply, but all that came out was a strangled croak. He clutched his betraying throat, suspicion and horror starting to dawn. Was it finally time for the Change? After all this time? _Not now, _he thought desperately, though he knew he had absolutely no control over what would happen next.

"Man, what's wrong? You want me to take you to the hospital?" Matt seemed even more worried now.

Feeling a sudden pain in his left ear, Tyler warily reached up to touch it. It was covered in a fine hair, and pointed slightly on top. Eyes widening, Tyler stumbled away. Or tried to, at least. His feet moved sluggishly, as though cast in blocks of concrete, and sweat poured continuously down his face.

There was no way to stop it. The Change was happening. And it was happening now.

"Seriously, Tyler, are you sick? You're not looking very good right now." A hand clapped down on Tyler's shoulder, spinning him around again. When Matt's lips parted and his eyes bulged, Tyler had a very strong feeling as to what they were seeing on his face.

"Oh my God!" Caroline shrieked, glancing up and down the empty sidewalk. "Matt, what's _wrong_ with him?"

Tyler wearily shook Matt's hand away, knowing he needed to leave before he completely Changed. God knew what happened then. He tried to say something, anything, to convey the danger they were currently in, but words wouldn't come. He collapsed helplessly to the ground, limbs twitching feebly as his muscles viciously contracted over and over again.

A loud pounding filled his ears, almost completely drowning out the sound of Caroline and Matt shouting his name.

* * *

As Damon approached the Gilbert home, entire body throbbing with pain, he noticed Elena's bedroom light on. A faint glow shone down to him, and every other room in the house was dark. He wondered briefly why she wasn't in bed asleep, but he really had no idea what time it was. It could have been 9:00 for all he knew. Or maybe his sudden arrival today had left her restless.

Taking a deep breath, he moved into a crouch, then sprang up to her window. Quickly using a foot to nudge open the window, he slipped into and landed on the balls of his feet with a muted thud.

Elena shrieked from over by her closet, clutching the shirt she'd just pulled off to her chest. Damon felt a surge of discomfort as he realized that she had been in the process of getting undressed, wearing only a bra and jeans. "Good thing I didn't knock. I would have missed the view," he said, moving smoothly aside to avoid the hairbrush she threw at him. It landed with a clatter against one wall. He turned to go, trying to save her further embarrassment. "Well, I'm obviously not welcome, so I'll just–"

A spasm of pain rocked his body, and he barely managed to lock his lips before a cry could escape. His knees gave out, and he dropped to the bed. He made sure to land so his face was up, attempting to keep blood off Elena's blankets. "Nice bed. Very comfy. Feel like joining me?"

"God, Damon," Elena said. "What the hell do you…" Her voice trailed off in shock. "Oh my God. What _happened_ to you?" And suddenly, she was looming over him, having abandoned the shirt she'd been holding to her chest like a shield.

Damon quickly sat up, averting his eyes. The motion caused a sharp pain in his side, which he tried not to show in his expression. "Oh, nothing. I dropped by to say hi to dearest Kathy and met a few of her friends. Weirdly enough, none of them seemed very happy to see me."

Elena sank to the bed beside him, eyes wide with dismay. "Damon, how could you be so _stupid_? Why would you go by Katherine's so soon out of getting out of the tomb? You're still weak. Are you suicidal?"

"A suicidal vampire. Now there's a picture." Damon grinned wickedly at her, but she ignored him.

Getting up again, Elena hurried into the bathroom. She seemed to have forgotten her shirtless situation, and Damon couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes from her bare back. She returned with a wet cloth and began wiping it gently across his face, an expression of intense concentration on her face.

"Ever considered being a nurse?" Damon asked, mainly to break the silence. Elena was rubbing blood away from his mouth, biting her lip as she focused on the task at hand.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. What about you?"

Damon waggled both eyebrows, ignoring the flare of pain that the gesture caused. "I don't think I'd make a very good nurse. Though the ladies might disagree."

"You know what I mean. A doctor," Elena said, lips twitching as she suppressed a smile.

"Nope. I was in the Confederate Army back in the day," he said dismissively. "Daddy dearest wasn't all that pleased when I deserted."

Her lips formed an O of surprise as she absorbed his words, then she uneasily cleared her throat. "Um, I think you have a broken nose. It looks kind of _crooked_."

He shrugged carelessly. "Not for long. It'll go back on its own before long."

She tossed the bloody rag in the general direction of her overflowing clothes hamper, but continued to stand before him. Damon could smell the enticing scent of her blood all too well, and swallowed back the barely controllable urge to attack. "Are you sure you're okay?" she whispered, after several beats of unbroken silence.

Damon tore his gaze from her lips, focusing instead on her eyes. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" he lied easily, licking his lips as his gaze went back to her mouth again. He swore mentally. Why couldn't he keep away from her? She was Stefan's, not his! But there was something…compelling about her, and it wasn't just her resemblance to Katherine. He suddenly had a vision of them sweaty and naked, and quickly tried to banish it to the dark recesses of his mind.

Elena swallowed hard, blinking several times. A strange expression crossed her face. "Uh, I'm not sure…I mean, are you really…" Her voice trailed off, and she leaned minutely towards him. Her eyelids lowered slightly, which was all the invitation Damon needed. He was pulled towards her like a magnet, lips pressing to hers.

What felt like a detonation of heated sparks burst to life between them, and Elena's legs shook uncontrollably. She fell to Damon's lap, lips pressing even more tightly to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs seemed to move involuntarily as they twined together around his waist. Her bare heels rubbed his back, and he suppressed a groan of pleasure.

Closing his eyes with satisfaction, Damon ran both hands through her hair. It was long and soft, like brown silk against his palms. He moved his hands away from it, down the sides of her throat, then to her shoulders. Her skin was soft under his touch, warm with the fresh blood that pulsed beneath it. He pulled her tighter to him, enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed so firmly together that they almost created a single being. Even the pain of his numerous wounds was forgotten in the heat of the moment. Slipping his fingers under her bra straps, Damon deftly lowered them, then reached for the metal clips at the back.

Elena's gasp was muffled against his lips, and she unexpectedly went still. Then she pulled both arms from around his neck and pushed with all her strength against his chest, straining to get off his lap. Damon released her, afraid his arms would bruise her vulnerable back. She fell backwards, barely managing to regain her balance in time.

"Elena…?" he said, confused at the mixed signals she was giving off. He was having slight trouble breathing from their fervent kiss.

She numbly shook her head, lips swollen. "No, Damon, we can't," she said breathlessly.

"And why not?" he said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

She only said one word, but it was a word that immediately snapped Damon back to reality. "Stefan."

He immediately raised his mental defenses, so she wouldn't see the hurt and anger in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something scathing, but was interrupted when a cell phone began ringing on the bedside table.

Giving him a final nervous look, Elena reached for the phone and pressed send. "Hello?" she said flatly, still trying to control her rapid breathing.

"_Elena, oh my God! You've got to help us!"_ Damon easily overheard Caroline's frantic voice from the piece of flimsy plastic. "_Something's wrong with Tyler, and Matt and I don't know what it is! Elena, I think he's dying!"_

**

* * *

**

Curious as to what will happen next? There's only one way to find out… *dramatic drum roll* Review! :D


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks to Vampgirl144, Kara.R.K., Silvery Rain, bluestriker666, babykjf101, BlueJean452, MissDK, BlueEyes444, and Lorien Urbani for reviewing. You guys are the greatest. :D

* * *

Chapter Five

Elena almost dropped the phone, and fumbled to get a better grip on it. "Caroline, _what_?"

Damon quickly stood, ignoring the way his lips still tingled, along with Elena's current shirtless state. He grabbed the phone from her, pressing it to his own ear. "What's wrong with him?"

There was a startled intake of breath, then Caroline gasped loudly, _"Who is this? Where's Elena?"_

"What's wrong with him?" Damon repeated emotionlessly.

Scowling darkly, Elena snatched the phone back from him. Placing it to her ear, she backed slowly away. "What's going on, Caroline? Just tell me what's wrong with Tyler," she said.

"_I don't…I don't…you have to see it for yourself. We're on our way to Matt's house right now, since it's closest. Elena, you've got to get over here!"_

"Okay, I'll be there in about five minutes. Just stay calm, Car." Snapping her phone shut, Elena quickly bent over and grabbed a wrinkled halter top from the floor. Damon averted his eyes until she'd pulled the shirt firmly into place, then started for the window. "Damon, where the hell do you think you're going?"

The vampire stopped, turning back to face her. "Where do you think? Out to woo countless beautiful maidens."

"You can't just run out like this."

"Why not? I'm perfectly capable of running out. I do it all the time." He flashed his trademark smirk for the merest of moments, but Elena didn't look amused.

"I'm serious, Damon."

"And so am I." His expression hardened, all emotions placed firmly behind his perfected mental shield. He didn't want her to see just how much the kiss had influenced him. "What do you want me to do, Elena? Come with you to help your little _friends_ with their _problems_?"

Her steely expression didn't waver. "That's exactly what I want you to do. I don't know what's going on with Tyler, but it's probably something dangerous. It's never anything less in this town," she said.

Damon shrugged nonchalantly. "And? If you think I care about you, Elena, you're _mistaken_." He delivered these deceitful words with the perfect amount of menace in his voice, and her eyes dropped from his. "You could pack up and leave town for all I care," he added, as an afterthought. He was trying his best to ignore the raw pain in Elena's eyes, which she was working so hard to hide from him.

When she spoke again, her voice was cold. "Fine. Go kill people and get caught by the mayor and Katherine. See if I care." She turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Damon stayed in the exact same place, listening until he heard the sound of the garage door grinding up, followed by the roar of a car engine. Elena was gone.

There was only one problem.

He hadn't meant what he said. He _did_ care about her, and more than he cared to admit to even himself. The hard expression on her face still haunted him, even after she'd left, and there was a strange feeling inside him. He didn't like the idea that she'd gone off into an unknown situation on her own, one that was more than likely a perilous one.

He should have gone with her.

Damon sighed heavily, wandering idly to Elena's vanity table. Its surface was cluttered with make-up and other girly things. The mirror was plastered with countless photographs, some faded and worn. Most of them were of Elena and Stefan, he noticed with disgust. But there was one that stood out, a grainy cell phone image.

He leaned forward, recognizing it almost immediately. It was of he and Elena; she had taken it while drunk during their trip to Georgia. Apparently, she had kept it. And cared enough to print it out and put among all those pictures with her dearest Stefan.

"Damn it," he muttered angrily to himself, sensing that his firm resolve had already failed. Turning from the mirror, he leapt out the window and landed smoothly on the ground below.

* * *

It took nearly the whole drive for Elena's hands to stop shaking. Her mind was filled to the brim with images of Damon's intense eyes boring into hers, of his hands running over her body and leaving traces of fire behind on the exposed skin. Of her lower body pressed tightly to his waist…

"Oh God," she said, mentally cursing her own stupidity. She hurriedly switched on the radio in an attempt to clear her thoughts, but even the pulsing pop music wasn't much help. Even as she tried to focus on Stefan, thoughts of the obvious sparks that had exploded between her and Damon just minutes before kept coming back to her mind. It didn't help matters that her memories of Stefan were so faded with time; she hadn't seen him for five long years.

After what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few minutes, Elena pulled into the right driveway. Her headlights landed on Matt's house, perfectly illuminating it. She could see what seemed to be Caroline's silhouette through the kitchen window.

Turning off the car's engine, Elena closed her eyes and put her head against the steering wheel. "Keep it together, Gilbert," she whispered fiercely to herself, even as she felt the sensation of Damon's hands pulling at her bra. She swallowed hard, then unconsciously touched one strap under her shirt, as though reassuring herself that it was still there.

Someone knocked briskly on the window.

Screaming, Elena spun around the face the window, hand flying towards the baseball bat she always kept on the floorboard.

"Did I startle you?" Damon asked superciliously, voice muffled through the glass.

"God!" Elena said angrily, hoping her eyes resembled daggers of ice as she glared at him. Though the way her heart was pounding against the inside of her ribs, she somehow doubted it.

Pushing open the door, she stepped unsteadily to the pavement. She took a deep breath, glancing again towards the house. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming," she said flatly.

He shrugged, smiling almost too pleasantly. "Thought I'd stop by and see what was wrong with Lockwood. My curiosity is piqued, what can I say. I wouldn't want to miss out if he croaks."

Resisting the urge to slap him, since she knew she'd melt if their bare skin touched, she turned and stomped up the driveway. Damon glided silently along behind her, evidently on good behavior. She rang the doorbell, then listened to the running footsteps that approached from inside. After several seconds, the door flew open to reveal Caroline.

"Elena, thank God! I thought you were never going to–" She broke off in shock, gawping over Elena's shoulder. "Oh my God. What is _he_ doing here?"

"I thought I'd drop in and check up on you. It's been _far_ too long, dear Caroline," Damon said enigmatically.

"Seriously, Elena! Why is he here? I thought he was a – a _you know_…"

"Can we come in? This might not be the best place to talk about things like this," Elena said.

"Oh! Yeah, come in." Caroline stepped back, frazzledly smoothing hair from her face. As the door closed, she turned and called in a quaking voice over one shoulder, "Matt, come here!"

"Weren't you a blonde? Or is my otherwise faultless memory failing?" Damon was staring oddly at Caroline's red hair, which was when Elena realized again how confusing all these changes had to be for him. He hadn't been out in the world since 2009, which she kept forgetting despite her best efforts.

Caroline was spared having to answer as Matt arrived in the entry hall, face flushed and hair sticking up in all directions. "Caroline, what's…" He trailed off, face turning a frightening shade of purple as he glared at Damon. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?" he demanded, throwing out a hand and roughly pushing Damon's chest. Damon stumbled backwards a step, expression unreadable, but didn't try to fight back.

Elena realized then that she needed to intervene, and stepped between the two of them. "Matt, calm down!"

"But he's one of them. He's a stinking _vampire_!"

"I guess the bat's out of the bag for us Salvatores," Damon remarked calmly.

"Shut up, Damon," Elena said. "Matt, none of it's true. All that stuff we heard about him doing to Stefan, I mean. Damon never got out of the tomb."

"The tomb?" Caroline said, eyes wide.

"Yeah, the tomb. Remember? Five years ago, Damon was buried inside that tomb while trying to…um, never mind." She decided that it wouldn't help convince them of Damon's innocence if she mentioned his old feelings for Katherine. That was all in the past now. "Katherine said he got out and helped her take over Mystic Falls, but she was lying. Damon just got out this _afternoon_."

Matt stared. "This afternoon?"

"Yeah, he's been trapped all this time. And he hasn't killed a soul since he got out. _Have you,_ Damon?"

"No people, if that's what you mean. A couple of deer, which caused me to be scarred for life," he said.

"There, you see? You've just got to trust me. And Damon," Elena said. "He's here to help. Then we're going to free Stefan and stop Katherine, all right? And you can't tell anyone that he's been here."

Caroline nodded slowly, and Matt's lips tightened. "Okay, Elena. Since you're the one asking, we won't tell anyone about him. But one wrong step, vampire…"

Damon leered melodramatically. "I'm shaking in my boots, _Mutt_."

"It's _Matt_," Elena ground out, just as a cry of pain echoed from the living room. "What was _that_?" she gasped.

Caroline's bottom lip was trembling. "Tyler."

"You've got to see this to believe it," Matt said. He quickly led the way into the living room, with Damon and Elena following just behind Caroline.

Tyler Lockwood was curled up in a fetal position on the couch, shuddering violently. A worn blanket had been pulled over him, but it had fallen to the carpet. Even from where they stood across the room, a sheen of sweat was visible across his brow.

"Oh my God," Elena said. She stepped closer, and noticed for the first time that Tyler's ears were pointed and hairy. And even more disturbingly, fine hairs had sprouted from the pores all over his face and arms. "What's _wrong_ with him?" She turned to Damon, and was startled to notice that his entire body had stiffened. What could only be described as a look of extreme disgust covered his face. "Damon?" she asked hesitantly.

Damon swore under his breath. "I should have known when I saw Lockwood's cronies," he said, seemingly to himself. "I missed the truth, even though it was staring me right in the damn face."

"What is it?" Matt asked in a tense tone.

"Your friend Tyler here's a werewolf. I sure hope you've stocked up on Kibbles 'N Bits."

Elena felt her eyes bug out, and dimly knew she probably looked absurd. "He's a _what_?"

Damon folded his arm, leaning casually against the living room wall. "What, you didn't know that the mayor and his son are part of a pack of lycans running through Mystic Falls? _Mighty_ sloppy on your parts."

Caroline was staring at Damon as though he'd sprouted another head. "You're telling me that _Tyler_ is a _werewolf_?" she squawked incredulously.

"I'm telling you that you'd better get him out to the back yard, unless you want the house to be torn down around you," he replied casually.

Elena got the meaning of his words and abruptly turned to Matt. She tried to ignore her spinning mind and stay focused on the situation at hand. "Okay, we need to get Tyler outside. There's a lot of trees back there, right?" She turned to the couch, and attempted to grab Tyler's feet. A sharp exhalation of breath exploded through her clenched teeth as she tried to use her injured hand. It was all she could do to keep from crying out.

"Elena, what's wrong with your hand?" Caroline blurted out.

"Did _he_ do that to you?" Matt demanded. Elena took 'he' and the tone of voice Matt used to mean Damon.

"No, it was me, Matt. I cut myself while doing the dishes. Nothing serious." She quickly averted her eyes from his, knowing he'd probably be able to tell that she was lying.

Damon chose that moment to gently push her out of the way, grabbing Tyler's waist and heaving him easily into the air. He tossed him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, then started for the back door. Tyler regained consciousness at the sudden movement, and began moaning quietly in the back of his throat.

"Don't, Damon! You'll hurt yourself!" Elena called as she rushed after him, highly conscious of the injuries he'd obtained at Katherine's. There was no outward sign of them now, but he was undoubtedly still hurting.

He ignored her, kicking the screen door open before someone could get it. He strode smoothly across the back yard, and towards the line of trees that began several hundred yards behind the house.

Caroline caught Elena's arm before she could follow, letting Matt get ahead of them. "Are you _sure_ about this?"

Elena chewed her lower lip for only a second. "Of course I am. Damon's changed a lot since you last saw him, Caroline."

The redhead arched a single brow, skepticism written all across her face. "I really hope you're right."

The two women hurried forward into the trees, where Damon had apparently tossed Tyler to the dirt. Tyler was rolling across the ground, clutching his head and groaning loudly. Matt looked disturbed, staying as far back as he possibly could.

"So what happens now?" Elena said.

"If he's lucky, he'll only complete the transition halfway this time," Damon said. He was gazing off into the distance, his attention seemingly elsewhere. "It'll prepare his body for the next time, and it'll hurt a hell of a lot less."

"So he should only Change partway at the moment?"

"That's the plan. But things don't always go like we plan them, do they?" Damon finally looked at her then, and the intense look in his opaque eyes make Elena's face heat up.

"How'd _you_ get to be such an expert?" Matt asked scathingly, obviously not picking up on the tension between her and Damon.

"I'm a vampire, and well over a hundred years old. I've picked up a few useless bits of information along the way."

"I wouldn't exactly call werewolves _useless_. Or did you lose your brain along the way?"

"Can we just save the male head-bashing for a later time?" Caroline said.

At that same moment, Tyler gave a howl of agony like Elena had never before heard in her life. There was a horrible cracking sound, and Tyler's entire body jerked as his spine enlarged. Clumps of fur burst through the sweat-soaked skin, and enormous talons forced their way from his clawed fingers, into the soft earth. With smaller tearing sounds, his clothes brutally ripped in several places.

It was the worst thing Elena had ever seen, but she couldn't look away. She felt her eyes grow wider and wider as she watched the monstrous transformation, and thought she might pass out with shock.

And then Damon was beside her, not looking over at her as he wordlessly stood there. Elena felt a sudden surge of relief to have him near, even though she couldn't quite figure out why. She just felt braver with him by her side.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Tyler's body stopped its crazed convulsions. The hair steadily retreated back into his flesh, and the talons disappeared. In a matter of minutes, Tyler was back to normal. He lay panting on the dirt, clothes torn and tattered, but not the worse for wear.

"My God," Matt whispered. "Ty, you okay?"

He nodded shakily, sweat still pouring in rivers down his face.

A few beats of silence passed.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Caroline hesitantly spoke up.

"Yes, he just writhed in agony on the ground and morphed into a _wolf_," Damon sing-songed.

"Shut up, Damon," Elena said tiredly, her voice lacking any menace. She knew it was only about eleven o'clock at night, but she was beyond tired. With Damon's shocking arrival, Haddix's search of her house, the kiss, and Tyler's transformation, she was more than ready to become reacquainted with her bed.

That's when they heard the voices, someone calling out through the trees.

Elena went still, heart pounding. "Who–"

"The neighbors must have heard us," Matt said. He glanced towards Tyler, brow creasing under the pressure.

"Oh my God, what are we going to do now?" Caroline hissed, sounding panicked.

"They can't see Tyler like this," Matt said.

"And they won't," Damon said finally, a strange expression crossing his face. He rushed with a burst of unnatural speed over to Tyler, and firmly pushed him into a tangled section of undergrowth. Tyler vanished into the bushes with only a surprised grunt, too weak to fight back.

"Damon," Elena said, "what do you think you're–"

His lips crushed against hers in a kiss that completely put their last one to shame. Elena's mind reeled, eyes closing involuntarily against the force of Damon's passion. She dimly felt herself being shoved backwards against a tree, rough bark digging into her back and bare arms. Looping her arms around Damon's neck, she pressed herself against him, as tightly as possible.

Their tongues twined together, then Damon pulled away and began nuzzling her neck. Elena threw her head back, suppressing a moan of utter pleasure. She wrapped both legs around Damon's waist and squeezed as hard as she could, rewarded by a soft groan from the vampire's throat.

His hands were touching every exposed bit of her skin, running up and down her arms and through her hair. His fingertips left behind trails of fire, searing along her skin. She dazedly opened her eyes, head lolling weakly, and for the first time noticed Caroline and Matt also kissing.

She couldn't bring herself to feel any jealously that Caroline was kissing her ex. Not only had they broken up over five years earlier, but Damon made her forget everything else. She wasn't even sure if she could remember her own name right now.

And then, horribly, Damon stopped kissing her throat. He unceremoniously pulled away and lowered her to the ground, ignoring her grasping fingers as they tried to hold onto his shirt. "They're gone," he mumbled, his voice husky.

Matt and Caroline also broke apart. "Why didn't they come talk to us or something?" Caroline said.

"I mentally planted the suggestion that we weren't doing anything suspicious, and what they saw confirmed it." Damon wasn't looking at her, for some reason that Elena couldn't fathom. She hungered deep inside for him to grab her again, this time ravishing her senseless. Even as Stefan's solemn face entered her thoughts, hazy with so much time apart, she couldn't break free from thoughts of his brother.

"You can do that?" Matt asked, not bothering to hide his suspicions.

"Don't, Matt," Caroline murmured, placing one hand on his chest. "Let's check on Tyler, okay?"

Elena watched as they hurried over to the bushes and started tugging the weakened Tyler free, then turned to Damon. She wasn't sure what she meant to say, especially since her lips seemed to be having trouble forming sensible words, but she needn't have bothered.

Damon was gone.

**

* * *

**

Reviews are a girl's best friend. :D


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Since I got so many awesome reviews for the last chapter, I decided to update a day early. Thanks for taking to time to review, everyone! :D

* * *

Chapter Six

Damon was alone in the branches of a tree near the Gilbert home, thinking very hard.

He'd done what had to be done, kissing Elena. He'd dutifully silenced the suspicious neighbors, and kept Tyler Lockwood's _condition_ from being discovered by anyone outside their little _club_. But kissing Elena had awakened some unsettling feelings deep inside him. Feelings he hadn't experienced in years.

Memories of her lips on his, her breath gusting against his face and mingling with his, lay heavy on his mind. Her hands had tentatively touched his skin, legs taking on a mind of their own as they wrapped around him. She had been hesitant, but that only increased her allure.

Yeah, Elena was definitely a good kisser. A borderline _great_ one, in fact. But that wasn't the only reason for Damon's growing attraction to her. Every time he thought of her, something out of the ordinary blossomed inside his chest. It wasn't the usual blood hunger he felt when around most beautiful women. Sure, he felt some temptations to taste her sweet blood, but it was more than that. He wanted to hold her to him and keep her safe from harm, fight off Katherine and whoever else cared to harm her. Hell, he'd even fight off Stefan if he had to. If Stefan were even around right now.

He'd never felt this way before, not even around Katherine.

Growling something unflattering under his breath, Damon shifted his weight on the branch, sending several small flakes of bark fluttering to the ground.

His mind was drifting towards ancient memories now, memories of Katherine. How he'd felt that first time their eyes had met, when they'd first made love. He'd thought he'd died and gone to heaven, that there couldn't be a more beautiful and loving woman. Even after finding out that she was a vampire, he'd still utterly adored her. Though his memories seemed oddly foggy after that point. Stefan had always insisted she'd compelled them both, and he was starting to think his little brother had been right.

He rubbed his temple with one hand, trying to rub the depressing thoughts from his brain. He didn't need to think about Katherine right then, or ever. She had betrayed him, and was more than likely torturing Stefan right now, as she had been for five years. She didn't deserve his love, or even his lust.

_Though someone else does,_ a small voice deep inside him whispered tantalizingly, followed by a mental image of Elena.

Scowling darkly, Damon leapt out of the tree, landing on the ground with a muted thud. He swiftly ran in the direction of the forest, intending to get a quick _snack_ and replenish his strength.

He didn't notice the dark-haired figure watching him from the side of Elena's house.

* * *

About ten minutes after the incident in the woods, Elena pulled up into her driveway, Matt's car right behind her. She checked her rearview mirror, then set the parking brake and climbed out. Matt, Caroline, and Tyler all piled out of the other car. Tyler was freshly dressed in some clothes borrowed from Matt, though his skin still looked a little gray.

Elena hadn't wanted to leave Tyler alone in the woods after what he had experienced, and had suggested that they all come over. Matt and Caroline had readily agreed, apparently having had similar worries about what to do with Tyler.

"How're you doing?" she said kindly, as the other three approached.

Tyler shrugged awkwardly, grimacing in pain. "Could be worse."

"I don't know, man. It seemed pretty rough to me." Matt gently clapped his friend on the shoulder, showing no obvious revulsion, even though he'd just discovered Tyler's werewolf heritage.

"Let's head in and get a quick bite to eat," Elena said. "Maybe some aspirin."

Tyler nodded once, then the four of them went inside.

Rolling her aching neck, Elena felt an overwhelming surge of relief to be home. She'd survived yet another crazy experience, and made it back alive. Even such a small feat was worth celebrating in this town.

Caroline tugged off her sweater, carefully hanging it on the wooden banister of the staircase. "So, um, what do werewolves tend to eat? Like, raw meat and stuff?"

"Not a chance, 'specially not when I'm in human form," Tyler said, rubbing the back of a hand over his eyes. "Anything would be fine. I'm _starving_."

"Help yourself to anything in there," Elena said.

"Thanks," Tyler said, then allowed himself to be guided towards the kitchen by Matt.

"Jere? You home?" Elena called up the stairs, not really expecting an answer. But much to her surprise, he appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a worn t-shirt and pajama bottoms. "Oh. Hi, Jere. I didn't wake you, did I?" After he had shaken his head, she continued uncertainly, "I just wanted to let you know that I've got some people over..."

He nodded again, then mentioned bleakly, "I was wondering why my room was open. I closed the door before I left earlier."

"Um…you know Franklin Haddix, right? He works for Mayor Lockwood? He was over for some kind of routine security search or something," she said, highly conscious of Caroline's silent presence at her side. "Nothing to worry about."

The Jeremy of old would have questioned her continuously about the unexpected visitor, wanting to know what exactly they'd done while they were there. This Jeremy simply said, "Oh," and wandered back to his room.

Elena sighed heavily, leaning against the staircase banister and covering her face with one hand. She couldn't help feeling a rush of overwhelming sadness at how much her brother had changed the past few years. He wasn't himself at all.

Caroline touched her arm. "I'm sorry, Elena. I know this is really hard on you," she murmured.

"You don't know the half of it," Elena said, voice muffled thanks to her hand. "Ever since Jenna died, Jeremy's been a completely different person. We hardly talk anymore, and when we do, it's to have conversations like _that_ one." She removed her hand and sighed again.

Nodding, Caroline changed the subject. "I know this is totally off subject, and maybe even more depressing, but have you heard from Bonnie lately? I've been trying to keep at least a minimal contact with her, but she hasn't called me back for a _long_ time."

Elena shrugged uncomfortably. "I haven't really talked with Bonnie for years. She could have skipped town for all I know."

Caroline smiled tightly. "Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm just _really_ worried about her."

"Yeah. Me, too."

Matt chose that moment to peer around the corner leading towards the kitchen. "Elena? Have you got any bread? I was going to make Tyler a sandwich, but there's not any in the bread container."

"Right, sorry. There's probably some in the freezer." Elena hurried into the kitchen and found some bread, which she put in the microwave to defrost. Turning around again, she saw Tyler sitting at the table, head in his hands. "Want some aspirin? It'll probably help," she said.

"Sure. Aspirin'd be great."

Elena hurried to the downstairs bathroom, flicking on the light, and rummaged around in the cabinet. She couldn't find any sign of the usual bottle of aspirin, and went to tell the others as much. "I'll just check upstairs. There's probably some in the other bathroom," she said.

"Okay." Caroline was distracted, pulling the bread from the microwave. She then noticed Matt attempting to use a spoon to scoop some mayo from a jar. "Matt! No, no, _no_! Haven't you learned anything in all the years of your life, or is it blocked out by male _incompetence_? You _can't_ use a spoon to put mayonnaise on a _sandwich_!"

Elena smiled slightly, then headed for the stairs. Even though Caroline was genuinely irritated, Elena was glad for the distraction from her problems, however small. Not to mention the distraction from her unsettling feelings for Damon. She still had no idea what to think about that situation.

Straightening her shoulders, she marched up the remaining stairs and headed for the bathroom. She paused outside Jeremy's door, which was firmly closed. A faint light leaked under the door, along with soft rock music. She continued on, to her bedroom.

It was completely dark. She reached for the light switch, and a warm light flooded the room at her touch. She surveyed the shadows near the edges of her room, frowning as a strange chill swept over her bare arms. The hairs stood straight up, and she shuddered violently. A quick glance at the ceiling fan revealed that it was turned off, and she also noted that the window was firmly closed. There was no real cause for her sudden chilliness, except an attack of her overactive imagination.

"You survive five years in this town, then you go crazy by imagining things," she said, frowning at herself. Sweeping one more gaze around the room, she walked over to the bathroom that adjoined her room with Jeremy's. The door to his room was shut, leaving the bathroom in total darkness.

She fumbled for the switch, then flicked it into the upright position. An unbelievably weird feeling growing steadily stronger deep inside her, she turned around to the medicine cabinet.

And came face-to-face with an identical copy of herself.

Her lips parted in shock; she didn't know whether to scream or to faint, but she didn't want to be left alone with the century-old bitch. But before she could make a move, Katherine moved forward and grabbed her throat with one hand.

Elena's eyes bulged with horror, and for a minute she almost blacked out. Then she realized that Katherine's fingers hadn't yet closed around the skin of her neck; they were merely placed there to ensure her motionless.

Several seconds of silence passed, and they stared at each other.

Now that her panic had passed, Elena saw that Katherine didn't look _exactly_ like her anymore, not like she had five years ago. Katherine lacked the scar at her temple, and of course appeared several years younger than her human counterpart. Her immaculately-curled hair was lustrous, falling perfectly into place each and every time she moved. Plus, there were her eyes. They held a cold, murderous glint that Elena could never mimic, no matter how hard she tried.

She took a shallow breath, very conscious of the icy fingers around her throat. "What do you want?" she croaked, not bothering to raise her voice above a whisper. She didn't want Jeremy to walk in, to get hurt. Like Jenna.

"I already _have_ everything I want," Katherine said smoothly, as though they were discussing the weather. "A town under my control, darling Stefan in my grasp. Though he isn't as cooperative as he could be. And he's looking a bit _pasty_."

Elena bit her lip to keep from saying anything she'd regret. "Why are you here?" she said, defining each word so even a dense person could understand.

Katherine smiled callously. "You don't want to catch up with me, reminisce about old time's sake?"

"Just tell me." Then a horrifying thought struck her, and her heart nearly stopped. "Did you…did you kill him?" she bleated.

The beautiful vampire looked momentarily confused, then laughed quietly. "Oh, you mean Stefan. Don't give up hope; he's still alive. Though I don't know why I bother. He's very _boring_. Unlike…Damon."

Elena went still, barely even breathing.

"That struck a nerve, didn't it? Some good times we've had together, Damon and I. I think he was always my favorite of the two. I like a little…danger in my man."

Swallowing hard, Elena tried to keep her breathing steady. She concentrated on inhaling and exhaling with the same rhythm, trying her best not to give anything away. The last thing she needed was for Katherine to know that Damon had been there.

"So, care to share?"

"Share what?"

"Where Damon is hiding out, of course."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Katherine tilted her head to one side, staring at her prey with an almost curious expression. Then, before Elena could even blink, she whipped her around towards the bathroom cabinet. Elena's body slammed into the wood with an earthshaking thud, a metal knob digging into her back. Her sneakers dangled several feet above the floor, waving wildly as they tried to find purchase.

"Want to change your story yet?" Katherine said sweetly.

Elena could barely breathe, and clearly felt her face getting red. She tried to say something, but it came out in a series of harsh gasps.

Loosening her grip only slightly, just enough to keep Elena pressed to the cabinet, Katherine leaned closer. "What was that?"

"Go to hell, you _bitch_," Elena managed to choke out, getting extreme satisfaction from the way Katherine's face went white with rage.

Katherine abruptly dropped her; Elena fell to the tile, landing in a crumpled heap. She touched her throat with one hand, bracing herself against the floor with the other, as she gasped for air.

"Now listen up, and listen good. I know Damon's been panting around you, Elena, and I know what you two are undoubtedly planning to do." Katherine moved down, so that her and Elena's faces were only inches apart. The skin beneath her eyes cracked alarmingly, and sharp fangs were visible among her other teeth. "Rescue _Stefan_. Well, that's not going to happen. So get that thought out of your pretty little head."

She grabbed Elena's shirt with one fist, and hauled her back to her feet. She brutally shoved her descendant against the cabinet doors again, eyes glittering with cold fury. "Stay away if you know what's good for you. Because I won't hesitate to kill your precious Stefan; he means nothing to me. _Nothing_. I could extinguish his measly existence in a _heartbeat_. And if Damon even _thinks_ about coming back to the mansion, I'll do the same to him. Don't think I won't. I'll make sure he dies the most painful death possible. And that goes for all your little friends downstairs, too."

With that, Katherine was gone. She vanished, presumably back to the Salvatore mansion.

Elena stared at the place where the vampire had been standing, legs shaking. Then she slowly slid down the cabinet doors to sit on the floor.

Katherine _knew_.

**

* * *

**

Reviews are the sunniest part of my gloomy existence. ;)


	8. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Guess who updated three days early? :D

* * *

Chapter Seven

Alaric was a man who liked to eat slowly. He had taken his time with his dinner at the Grill, then thoughtfully ordered dessert from a crumpled menu. Afterwards, he had decided to have a couple of drinks. He was just finishing his second drink when he noticed Bonnie Bennett and Mayor Lockwood walking out of the Grill together.

He raised a hand to wave at his former student, but she didn't even glance his way. His brow furrowed, then he took a final sip of his beer and reached for his wallet. Riffling through the creased bills inside, he tried to decide what would be an appropriate tip to leave. He _had_ been there for a couple of hours, after all.

That's when a shadow fell across the booth, making him pause. "Alaric Saltzman?"

The history teacher slowly looked up, and saw a man he didn't recognize standing beside the table. "Yeah, that's me…"

"John Gilbert. Sorry I'm late, but there were a few things I had to take care of before coming." The man casually sat down across from Alaric, slinging his arm along the back of his seat.

Alaric stared blankly at him for several seconds. "John _Gilbert_? Is that any connection to–"

"Let's not get into my heritage right now, Ric. We've got more important things to talk about."

"So you're my contact," Alaric said guardedly, glancing quickly around the room. It was nearly empty, and no one was sitting at the tables near theirs.

"That's right." He flashed an insolent grin, then leaned forward. "I'm sure you know who I'm affiliated with? I don't want things to get _awkward_ between us. Especially not with this little _partnership_ we've got going on now."

Alaric's jaw tightened. "Isobel. My wife. My…ex-wife. She's the one who set this up," he said.

"So I guess you're not as clueless as you look." John paused for a moment, appearing deep in thought. "Isobel told me to say hi, by the way. Beautiful woman, your ex-wife is."

"I'd rather not talk about that right now," Alaric said, both hands clenching into fists.

"Fine, Ric, whatever you say." John shrugged, sparing a wink for a pair of women walking past their booth.

There was silence for a few moments, while Alaric tried to get a handle on his emotions. Then he finally managed, "Look, why are you and Isobel suddenly so damn interested in what's going on in Mystic Falls? It's been five years since the takeover."

John smiled secretively. "Isobel and I don't really like the way things are going in this town. We've been watching, and things are starting to go downhill fast."

"_Starting_ to? They already _have_."

"We've decided to get things back on track before that happens," he went on, as though he'd never even heard Alaric. "We have a…mutual interest here that we'd like to see safe."

"Mutual interest?" Alaric said suspiciously.

"It's confidential. So forgive me if I don't tell you about it." John paused, clasping his hands together. "Now, let's talk business, shall we? My associates and I have come up with a plan I really feel you'll be interested in."

Alaric nodded slowly. "I'm listening."

* * *

After coming across several rabbits and a squirrel in the forest, much to his own disgust, Damon headed back to Elena. He couldn't help wryly comparing himself to a boomerang as he leapt smoothly up to her bedroom window. No matter what he did, he always came back here. He was starting to become predictable.

Damon paused before opening the window as he saw the light on. There didn't seem to be anyone present in the room, but he still wondered briefly if it would be better to go downstairs and enter through the front door, like a normal person. He hurriedly banished the thought; the last thing he wanted was to be called _normal_. Besides, he doubted Elena was even on the second floor. He could hear Caroline talking in the kitchen, which doubtlessly meant they were all gathered there.

He opened the window, then slipped inside. The room was as empty as he'd first thought, though he got a strange feeling when he glanced around. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, warning him of something dangerous. But there was no obvious danger that he could see, anywhere in the room.

Frowning, he walked across the carpet and headed for the bedroom door, intending to join the others downstairs. Then he heard the shaky intake of breath from somewhere behind him.

Spinning around, Damon's eyes landed on the open bathroom door. He hadn't noticed the light on earlier, thanks to the light in the bedroom also being on. He cautiously moved forward, wary of the fact that he might be able to catch someone in a very awkward position. Still, he peered slowly around the corner and into the bathroom.

Elena was on the bathroom floor in a crumpled heap.

Damon instantly panicked; humans were so very fragile, and died so easily. She could have slipped effortlessly away from him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. This thought made Damon choke, and he hurriedly crouched down before her. "Elena?" he asked urgently, not bothering to hide his concern.

She jumped, obviously started to see him, and he noticed for the first time the tears staining her face. "What? Oh, Damon, you scared me," she croaked, discreetly wiping her eyes.

"Elena, what–"

"Shhh. Jeremy." She gestured pointedly towards the closed door on the other side of the bathroom, and smiled tightly.

He didn't give a damn about her brother, but tactfully didn't say so out loud. "Are you all right? Did you break something?" He couldn't smell any blood, which was always a good sign, but quickly looked her up and down just to be on the safe side.

"No, I'm fine. I just…I fell, that's all. Slipped. Help me up, will you?"

He blurred to his feet in the time it took to blink, then took her arms and effortlessly hauled her to her feet. "Can't leave you alone for half an hour, can I?" he asked, meaning the question to be lighthearted. Instead, his voice came out gruff.

Elena blushed, looking away from him. "I just came up to get some aspirin for Tyler…" She turned towards the bathroom cabinet and opened it. As she did so, she brushed away the hair away from one side of her face. This motion clearly revealed the red marks wrapped all the way around the front of her throat.

Damon's eyes widened, and he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. Elena lips quivered, so he quickly dropped his hand. "Who did that to you?" he said darkly, pointing to the marks. There were five of them, and they looked suspiciously like marks that someone's fingers might leave behind. "Was it Mutt?"

"It's _Matt_. And no, he didn't," Elena said, lips tightening. "Don't be so paranoid." She grabbed the aspirin and started to push past him, but he grabbed her wrist and she stopped.

"I'm serious, Elena. If someone did that to you, I'm not going to let them get away with it."

Elena's lips were very close to his, and Damon suddenly realized that she was staring at his. He nervously licked them, as his lips suddenly felt very dry, and saw her pupils dilate. Swallowing hard, he found that he couldn't find anything else to say. Every rational word in his mind seemed to have melted to mush.

Elena partially lowered her eyelids, and leaned closer still. That was all the invitation Damon needed, and he grabbed her to him. Lowering his head, he hungrily pressed his lips to hers as hard as he possibly could. At the same time, he wrapped his arms and her and lifted her up. Setting her down on the edge of the counter, he stepped between her legs and leaned against her body.

She moaned in the back of her throat, which made Damon kiss her harder still. He reached for the edges of her shirt, and this time she didn't resist. Just as he was about to pull it over her head, Caroline called Elena's name from the next room.

Damon sprang away from Elena like her skin had burned him, just as Caroline walked into the bathroom. She stopped in her tracks and looked between the two of them, lips parted with surprise. Damon knew that the way Elena was panting for breath, adjusting her shirt as she sat on the counter, made what they'd just been doing very obvious. Even to Caroline.

"I…just came to see if you'd found the aspirin," she said after a moment. "But I can see you found a little more than pain medication."

Elena was blushing as she hopped down from the counter, awkwardly clearing her throat. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, I found it." She held up the small bottle of aspirin and shook it, then hurriedly stepped around Caroline and out of the bathroom.

Damon arched a brow at Caroline, who was still staring at him. "Take a picture. I hear they last longer."

"Were you just kissing Elena?" she asked accusingly.

"Why? Are you offering your services?"

Caroline huffed loudly, then rushed out of the room, after Elena. Damon smirked, pausing before following the two of them. A glance in the smudged mirror revealed that his pale skin seemed even paler than usual, and his own pupils were dilated. Refusing to think of how this reaction had been induced by Elena, he strode out of the bathroom and downstairs to the kitchen.

When he and the two young women arrived in the kitchen, Matt was just finishing a sandwich. He straightened and shoved the rest of it into his mouth when he saw Damon, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Elena handed Tyler the aspirin, and asked how he was doing.

"Okay, I guess. I could be better," he said, swallowing two white pills without any water. "Thanks." His cell phone chose that moment to ring, and he quickly pulled it from his pocket. It had somehow managed to survive the half-transformation to a wolf, even though his clothes had been mostly destroyed. He glanced at the caller ID, then answered it.

"What happened? You were gone an awfully long time; I had to send Caroline after you." Matt's eyes darted back and forth between Elena and Damon, as though he suspected some nefarious connection between them.

Damon answered before Elena could, smirking devilishly. "She had…a little trouble locating the aspirin," he said, an obvious innuendo in his words.

Elena was having noticeable trouble keeping her mouth shut, and folded her arms over her chest. "Don't worry about it, Matt," she said.

Tyler hung up his cell phone at this point, looking apologetic. "That was my mom, wondering where I am. I'd better get home."

Elena nodded understandingly. "Does she…well, does she _know_?"

"That her husband and son are werewolves? Not really, no," he said, getting to his feet. "Thanks for staying with me and everything. Uh…I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Ty. Why don't you let me drive you home?" Matt offered.

"Thanks, man. That'd be great."

Not wanting to be left out of the conversation, Damon said in an exaggerated tone of voice, "Great seeing you, man." He offered one fist for a friendly bump, but Matt and Tyler both ignored him. "What, no fist-bump? I thought that what you kids did these days. Or maybe I'm getting too old now to keep up with human social customs."

Elena ushered her guests towards the front door, and Damon trailed along behind them. "I'll see you guys later, okay? I hope you feel better soon, Tyler."

"Thanks for all this, Elena." Matt gave Elena an awkward, one-armed hug before rushing out the front door and into the darkness. Tyler followed him, but Caroline lingered for a moment.

Damon leaned casually against the wall and crossed his arms, shamelessly eavesdropping without bothering to hide his intent. "Are you sure you're okay?" Caroline whispered, shooting Damon a furtive look.

Elena nodded, tight-lipped. "I'm just fine, Caroline," she said, at a normal volume. "I'll call you later, okay?" She gave her a friend a hug, then ushered her after Matt and Tyler.

Just as she was about to push the door closed, and odd feeling swept over Damon. He quickly strode over to Elena and pushed past her to stand on the front step. He glanced around the dark front yard, watching as Elena's guests drove away. And still the strange feeling remained, causing the hairs to rise up on his arms. It was the same feeling he'd experienced earlier.

"Damon? What are you _doing_?" Elena demanded, stepping up behind him.

He whirled around with unnatural speed to face her, unable to help smirking when she jumped in surprise. "Nothing. I just thought there was something out here," he conceded.

"Wh…what kind of something?" she faltered, in a way Damon found quite suspicious.

He shrugged, ignoring the eerie feeling of eyes on his back. Gently taking her arms, he lifted her up and put her down on the other side of the threshold before following her inside.

**

* * *

**

Who or what do you think Damon sensed outside? Believe me, it wasn't the first thing you would suspect… *evil grin*


	9. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Okay, who is excited about September 9? :D

* * *

Chapter Eight

Closing the door behind him, Damon turned to face Elena. She was staring at him in a strange way, the bemused look on her face actually kind of sexy. He tried weakly to distract himself from this with other thoughts, but couldn't bring himself to think of anything remotely as interesting as grabbing Elena into his arms again.

"Do you know or not?" she said.

"Know what? You've _got_ to be more specific, Ms. Gilbert," Damon said patronizingly.

She was frowning at him now. "What you thought you heard outside."

"Oh, that. I didn't hear anything; I just thought I sensed something," he said nonchalantly. He reached up to rub his temple, and grimaced as he felt a flare of pain. He'd almost forgotten about fighting Numbers One through Four back at Katherine's place, but the sudden pain reminded him all too well of the incident.

"What, like another vampire?"

He stared at her. "What made you immediately think of another vampire?"

"Uh, nothing. Just curious." She turned away, folding her arms across her chest.

Damon looked at her for several more seconds, then turned towards the door. "I should go. It's getting late, and I know how much you girls like your beauty sleep." He felt a momentary surge of melancholy as he realized that he actually had no place to go; the Salvatore mansion had been taken over by Katherine, and it wasn't as if he could go sleep where he had for the last five years, in the tomb. It seemed the branches of a tree would be his bed for the evening.

"Don't be stupid, Damon. You can stay here," she said.

"Not that I'm objecting, but your bed is a bit small for the two of us."

Elena blushed, quickly averting her gaze from his. "Think about it, Damon. You've got nowhere to go–"

"Thanks for reminding me," he said sullenly.

"–and you're still weak from fighting those other vampires. You need to regain your strength before gallivanting off into the night. And don't use the excuse of hunting, because I'm sure you've drank plenty already," she said.

"Yes, because you have the _highest_ amount of knowledge regarding how much blood a vampire needs to drink every day," he said. But despite himself, he couldn't help feeling touched. She actually cared enough to want him to get strong again, no matter how much they both pretended otherwise.

"Seriously, Damon. Just stay here tonight, in…in Jenna's old room." She paused, biting down hard on her lower lip as she struggled to control her emotions. "We can plan what to do about Stefan and Katherine in the morning, okay?"

Damon's good mood abruptly vanished. Of course. Why shouldn't he be surprised? Elena didn't care about him as a person – or as a _vampire_ in his case. She just wanted to make sure he was strong enough to rescue her precious Stefan from Katherine's grasp.

"Fine. We'll talk business in the morning," he said icily, abruptly turning away from her and starting up the stairs. He didn't look back, even when she hesitantly called his name. Good, let her think he was pissed off at her; it was close enough to the truth. Though it was hard for him to tell just how he felt, thanks to his churning emotions. It almost seemed like there was a dash of hurt mixed in as well, but he doubted it was true. He was a vampire; he didn't _get_ hurt feelings.

When he reached the right room, he strode inside and slammed the door thunderously behind him. Then he paused and glanced briefly around, noting the thick layers of dust that coated everything. Most of the aunt's belongings still seemed present, as well.

He dropped down onto the bed without bothering to turn down the covers, wincing in pain. His whole body was throbbing, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, and the soft mattress under him felt beyond perfect. It was the first one he'd slept on in five years, so even the lumpy blankets under his body didn't ruin the effect.

Rolling over onto his side, he closed his eyes. It didn't take very long for the darkness of sleep to overtake him.

* * *

Katherine walked unhurriedly down the stone steps leading into the basement of the Salvatore mansion. She was alone instead of followed by several guards, as she usually was. She'd considerably increased the security upstairs, informing all of her associates to be on the lookout for Damon. She knew he was around somewhere, and didn't want to take any chance of him freeing his brother. The two of them working together would have the perfect potential to ruin all her careful planning.

She paused at the bottom of the steps, and turned to the mirror she'd had hung there not long after making the mansion her headquarters. She carefully smoothed back her already perfect curls and brushed imaginary dirt from her wrinkleless clothes. Then she stepped around the corner to the cell.

Its wooden door had been reinforced with metal, though that extra strength wasn't really needed these days. The small window was barred, enough space between each bar for an arm to fit through. The key to the lock had long since been disposed of, as Katherine didn't want to risk losing her trophy.

"Hello, darling Stefan. You look a bit peaked today. Not feeling well?" She smiled coldly, peering through the bars and into the small room. She'd made sure to remove all possible comforts from inside the cell before putting Stefan inside, though she _had_ left a ragged blanket there for him to curl up on. It was little more than scraps by now, so he and the blanket went together perfectly.

Stefan was curled up on the shabby blanket, as he usually was when she came down to _visit_. His face was almost fleshless, and his eyes were no more than sunken holes. His clothes were hanging off him like an enormous tent. And as predicted, he didn't answer her mocking comment.

"Hmmm, that's too bad. I'm sure you'll get better soon." She leaned against the bars and idly dangled one arm through them to the other side. She was confident that Stefan didn't possess the strength to even get to his feet, much less attack her. "Anyway, I thought I'd bring down some _gossip_, as they say. Went to visit Elena this evening." She watched as Stefan's frail body visibly stiffened, and her lips curved into another smile.

"Bratty little child. I don't know why I bother to keep the two of you alive. You're so boring, and she's so…disrespectful. She called me a _bitch_. I mean, _really_. What are they teaching people these days? Remember what it was like back in our time, darling? Everyone had perfectly sociable manners, but that didn't stop us from having our fun."

Stefan sluggishly shifted his position on the blanket, his movements almost painful to watch.

"And I thought you might like to hear about Damon. He's back in Mystic Falls. Of course the two of us had our good times together, but I always did like you better. More polite, except when you got off that god-awful animal blood. Then you were quite the dangerous vampire, just how I like them."

Katherine leaned closer still, and had the pleasure of seeing what could pass for an expression of shock crossing her prisoner's destroyed face. He was obviously trying to hide his amazement about hearing that Damon was finally out of the tomb, but not doing a very good job of it.

"Oh, well. I'm sure he'll shake things up. I intend to let him carry on for a while longer, to provide entertainment if nothing else. He and Elena make quite the…adorable couple." Stefan tensed, hollow eyes shifting painfully towards her. "Oh, that's right. You didn't know about the two of them. Haven't exactly had the time to check out that idiotic Facebook website lately, have you? Been sort of…busy?

"Anyway, I just thought I'd share that little tidbit of information. Give you something else to brood about, I suppose. I'll give them a few more days and have fun playing with them and their little friends. Then I'm afraid it'll be the death penalty for both of them. Damon and Elena just _aren't_ on my good list."

She paused, watching the horror on Stefan's face, then checked her watch. "Oh, look at the time. I'll come back later and finish our conversation, darling. I've got a little phone call to make to our wonderful mayor. I've got the perfect surprise for your brother and sweet Elena, come morning. Bye for now."

Katherine turned and walked calmly away, leaving Stefan alone in the darkness.

_

* * *

_

Elena was on top of him, flawless skin shining in the light from the window behind her. She was completely and gloriously naked, sitting tantalizingly atop his stomach. She was slowly tracing her delicate hands all across his body, having started at his throat. She had slowly progressed to his bare chest, and seemed to be enjoying making him feel so wild and crazy, if her small smile was anything to go by.

_Damon couldn't stand it any longer, and pulled her mouth down to his. Holding her tightly to him, muffling her laugh against his lips, he flipped both of them over until he was on top of her. He braced himself above her with both arms, staring down into her eyes. She was breathless as she stared back at him, her perfect hair spread across the pillow behind her like a halo. She almost looked like she had something to say, lips slightly parted, but didn't speak._

"_Ready?" he asked her, voice coming out rough. Without waiting for an answer, he swiftly lowered himself towards her._

_She stopped him, one hand against his chest. "Wait, Damon. I…I just wanted to say that…I love you," she murmured, blushing. The blood warming her cheeks made her look like an angel._

_He stopped, loving her sudden shyness. "What about Stefan? I think he'd have something to say about that little confession."_

"_What about him?" And then she pulled him down hard onto her, and moaned in pleasure._

Damon jolted awake, sitting straight up in bed. Sweat had plastered his shirt to him, and it took him several moments to pull himself from the delicious dream and back into reality.

Wiping the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked around. Faint rays of sunlight were streaming in the window, which undeniably meant it was time to get up for the day. The only problem was, he didn't want to. His dream had been amazing, but it was very doubtful that such a thing would ever happen to him in the waking world.

Much to his disappointment.

Stretching, and noticing that all his aches and pains from the day before had vanished thanks to a good sleep, Damon stood. Striding to the door, he pulled it open and started down the stairs.

Elena was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of orange juice from the refrigerator. Jeremy was sitting at the table, mechanically eating a bowl of cereal and staring into nothingness. The kid was like a zombie.

Neither of them seemed to have noticed his sudden presence yet, so Damon glided quickly up behind Elena and put one hand over her eyes. She screamed and dropped the carton of orange juice, which Damon caught in his other hand without missing a beat. "Guess _who_," he singsonged.

"God, Damon! You scared me!" she cried, spinning around to face him.

He smirked, handing her the orange juice. "Really?"

She glared at him, then went white as she suddenly realized how close their bodies were. Her back was pressed against the counter, while he stood not five inches from her. Awkwardly clearing her throat, she looked away and hurriedly pushed past him. He reluctantly stepped back; if it weren't for her brother's gloomy existence across the room from them, he had a strong feeling that he probably would have tried to recreate his dream as extensively as possible.

"Um, do you want some breakfast?" she said, clearing her throat again. She had her back to him, and was busily placing raw slabs of bacon onto a plastic plate, preparing them for the microwave.

"You're so kind, offering yourself to me this early in the morning," he remarked agreeably. "Not many in your position would do the same before eating their _own_ breakfast."

Elena whirled to glare at him, then nodded sharply towards Jeremy. Damon glanced over at him, but didn't see the necessity of staying silent. The kid was still staring at the tabletop, robotically chewing his cereal.

"_Any_way." Damon paused to increase suspense, then smirked widely at the thought of Elena's reaction to what he was about to tell her. "I had the _best_ dream last night."

"Uh-huh. Did it involve scaring me to death first thing in the morning?" she said sarcastically.

"No, 'fraid not. Though it did actually involve you. And me." Damon noticed a look of dawning horror crossing Elena's face, which meant she'd realized where his speech was going. Perfect. "And a lovely bed that was _ideal_ for the two of us to–"

"Can you two give it a rest already? I'm trying to eat." Jeremy suddenly spoke, sounding perfectly normal as he got up and walked to put his bowl in the sink. "Just sleep together and get it over with."

Elena, looking flustered, grabbed the carton of orange juice and held it to her chest like a shield. "We're not…I mean, we're not really–"

"Yeah, right. Try convincing someone who's both blind and deaf. You think I didn't hear you making out in the bathroom last night?"

Damon arched a brow, feeling a surge of amusement at the mounting horror on Elena's face. "Maybe your intelligence level is higher than I gave you credit for. You're pretty smart for a human."

Jeremy's expression didn't change, but he did nod minutely. "Let me give you some advice. The way to tell when Elena has the hots for a guy is when she starts unconsciously leaning towards him."

Elena slammed herself back against the counter as both guys turned to look at her, simultaneously turning beat-red.

Damon offered a fist to Jeremy, who did what Matt and Tyler hadn't and halfheartedly bumped it with one of his own. "Right on!" the vampire said with embellished enthusiasm. "It must have just been the mutt and the werewolf who don't realize the correct way to greet someone in the twenty-first century."

Jeremy shrugged, stuffing both hands into his pockets. "I'll give you two some time alone, then. Try not to break anything with the force of your unbridled passion and all that."

"Will do." Damon leered at Elena, who suddenly didn't look like she was dreading him coming anywhere near her.

That's when the werewolves burst through the French doors, shards of glass flying in every direction.

**

* * *

**

So, did you like the chapter? I'd love to hear what you guys think! :D


	10. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Since all of you so kindly reviewed on the last chapter, I decided to update AGAIN! :D

* * *

Chapter Nine

Damon reacted instantly, grabbing Elena's arm and whipping her behind him. "Get down!" he shouted, directing this to both Gilberts. Then he moved into a crouch and prepared for impact as the five snarling werewolves sprang towards him.

The first wolf, covered in thick black hair, slammed into him with the force of a freight train, jaws snapping and claws flailing in all directions. Damon was thrown to the floor, and cried out in surprise as the wolf's jaws loomed up in his vision, spittle raining down on his face.

He blocked his face with one arm just as the jaws came down, tearing into the flesh of his forearm instead. He locked his lips tightly together to keep a scream of pain from escaping, and directed a hard blow towards the wolf's snout with his free fist. The wolf fell back with a snarl of rage, the other four immediately taking its place.

Blood streaming down his left arm, he kicked out hard with both legs. Wolf number two went down with an ominous cracking sound, obviously not to get back up anytime soon. Wolves number one, three, and four attacked with a vengeance, evidently trying to get to his throat. He flipped around at the very last second, so that his back faced them.

He felt the excruciating sensation of a pair of jaws clamping down on the back of his neck, and a white light exploded across his vision. He was only dimly aware of the wolf shaking him like a ragdoll, with surprising strength.

And then Elena appeared from the fog, a kitchen chair held high over her head. With a cry of primal rage, she brought the chair down on his attackers, one wooden leg accidentally catching Damon on the side of his head. He slumped limply to the floor, dazed, vaguely hearing the angry yelp of Elena's hairy victim.

_Stay awake, Salvatore! _he ordered himself fiercely, just as the blackness began to overtake him. He couldn't pass out now, leaving Elena to fight the wolves alone. Who knew what they would do to her if he didn't stop them?

He wearily cracked one eye open, and saw Elena standing a few feet away. Brandishing the chair like a shield, she was fighting off the wolves with it and steadily being backed into the corner. There was no sign of Jeremy.

Swearing mentally, Damon shoved himself to his feet, stumbling. Two of the three remaining wolves turned their heads as they noticed his movement, and sprang towards him. Damon steeled himself, holding his arms out as though to embrace the pair as they pounced.

The strength of their impact sent him backwards, though he managed to keep his footing, holding them off with both arms. He crashed into the wall with an earth-shattering thud, what little breath he had in his lungs brutally forced out.

One of the wolves managed to get its head past his arms, and its gaping maw grabbed onto Damon's throat. He choked, already feeling his windpipe starting to collapse, and tried to dislodge the wolf. He threw several wild punches with one arm, while trying to keep the second lycan off him with the other. Wetness was trickling down his neck, which meant he didn't have much time left to win this fight.

Pressing his back up against the wall, he brought both legs up simultaneously and kicked his attackers with all his strength. The wolf holding his throat snarled before releasing him, though the other managed to avoid his blow and lunge even closer. It apparently intended to take the other wolf's place, with its jaws around Damon's neck.

Before the wolf could carry out its plan, Damon spun away, pushing off from the wall, and landed in a crouch a few feet away. He rose quickly, but not quickly enough. Both wolves raced towards him and threw him to the ground. They stood over him, jaws snapping, then lunged down at him.

Thinking dimly how the fight was starting to seem a bit repetitive, (the wolves attacking him, throwing him to the floor, then him getting up and the whole cycle continuing again) he lashed out hard and fast with both fists. One made contact with a wolf's nose, and it fell back with a roar of pain. The other kept coming, leaning in for the kill.

Damon threw up an arm and held the snapping wolf from his throat, highly conscious of the other wolf already getting to its feet. Squinting one eye to aim straight and true, he slid his leg across the tile and towards the wolf, just as it stood. His leg made contact, and there was a sharp cracking sound. The wolf flew backwards and crashed against the wall, going down hard with a yelp. It was obvious that the wolf wouldn't get up again anytime soon.

Damon turned his focus to the wolf attempting to tear out his throat, still blocking it with one arm. He started to attack with his free hand, but the wolf abruptly struck out with a paw, pinning it to the floor. He felt the wolf's claws digging straight into the bone, and tried to keep from shouting in pain.

His free arm was shaking under the strain of the wolf's assault, and sweat was running into his eyes. He blinked rapidly to get the sweat from his eyes, trying to ignore the way they burned uncomfortably. He was growing steadily weaker, and it wouldn't be much longer before the wolf succeeded, and managed to rip of his head.

He tried to think of something witty to say, so he could die looking brave and cocky instead of cowardly and weak, but nothing suitable came to mind. He wasn't even sure if he could manage to say anything at all, with all his strength focused on holding the wolf from his throat.

_Sorry, Stefan. I guess I'm not going to be able to get you out of Kathy's clutches after all,_ he thought regretfully.

It was at that moment that the sheen of sweat of his arm allowed the wolf to slip easily past his defenses, jaws reaching to close around his throat…

A glistening silver blade, already wet with blood, flashed through the air. It punctured the wolf's side, and the animal froze with shock. It swayed, seeming more surprised than anything, then landed on the floor in a crumpled heap.

Damon stared back and forth between the dead wolf and Jeremy, who brandished the kitchen knife he held like a sword. There was a moment of stunned silence, which he didn't try to break. He had been expecting to experience death at that very moment, but now he apparently wasn't going to. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not.

A wave of extreme tiredness swept over him, and he stared dimly up at the ceiling. He noticed a small crack right above the kitchen table, and made a mental note to inform Elena of it. Then she was standing over him, looking horrified but none the worse for wear. Jeremy had also apparently taken care of her wolf. She dropped to her knees beside him, reaching out like she wanted to touch him but stopping herself just in time. "Damon, oh my God. Are you all right?" she gasped out, her face very pale.

"Do I look all right?" he said cynically, trying to sit up. He found that such a movement was impossible; he was too weak. He'd lost too much blood from the fight. "Anything important missing? How about any irreversible damage to my devilishly handsome features?"

Elena shook her head mutely, his joke doing nothing to lighten her expression of dismay.

He managed to turn his head towards Jeremy, while willing his heavy eyelids to stay open. This was no easy task. He wanted nothing more than to let himself drift away into the darkness, now that all danger had been eliminated. Elena and her brother were safe. "Thanks," he said to Jeremy, without even a hint of sarcasm. He was too tired for sarcasm.

"No problem." Then Jeremy turned and wandered from the room, like nothing had ever happened. He left the bloody knife on one of the kitchen cabinets. Seconds later, the front door slammed behind him.

Damon felt his eyes beginning to close, the darkness starting to overtake him. But before he could slip away into nothingness, he smelled it. His entire body jerked, senses going into overdrive. "Elena, are you hurt?" he demanded roughly, trying to hide both his concern and looming bloodlust.

"What?" She glanced down at her arm, then her eyes widened. "Yeah…I must have cut myself on some glass, when the doors exploded…" She trailed off, a strange expression on her face.

"Don't even think about it," he said, realizing what direction her thoughts were going in. He tried again to sit up, to get away from her before she did something rash, but his body wouldn't follow his mental commands. _Damn it,_ he swore mentally. The skin beneath his eyes was already cracking, he could feel it. He wasn't going to be able to control himself for much longer, not when he was injured this badly.

Elena reached down and grabbed a jagged piece of glass from the floor beside them. Holding his gaze for a few seconds, lips tight with determination, she slowly drew it along the small wound on her arm, widening it. Her features tightened in pain, and the shard of glass fell from her hand with a clatter.

"Elena…" he said, breathless. The skin of his face was stretched almost unbearably, and his fangs had already forced their way through. They were throbbing, not at all helping him concentrate on staying away from Elena.

"Come on, Damon, I know you're hurt. Just drink a little and get your strength back. Okay?" she said compellingly. She leaned closer still to him, throat working as she swallowed hard, and held her wrist over his face. As it hovered there, a tiny drop of red liquid dripped from the shallow wound and onto Damon's face.

He couldn't take anymore of the torture. Quickly glancing into her eyes to make sure she was still offering her blood willingly, Damon reached out and grabbed her wrist. Elena gasped, more from surprise than pain, as he swiftly lowered her wrist to his mouth and began drinking.

He drank deeply, hungrily, her refreshing blood trickling down his throat. It tasted even better than he had ever imagined, and drinking it was like receiving a glass of cold water on the hottest day imaginable. He closed his eyes with complete pleasure, the pain in his face and gums starting to recede. His whole body felt better already, the agony of his many injuries fading.

In fact, he was completely lost in his own little world of bliss until he heard Elena's soft moan.

Damon's eyes flashed open, and he immediately released Elena's wrist. She massaged it gently, face pale. "Sorry," he said quickly, sitting up. He could feel the delicious new blood circulating through his body, working at healing all the wounds. "You should have stopped me."

"You needed the blood," she said. "Besides, I don't think I could have stopped you if I'd tried."

"I won't hurt you, Elena." The words shocked even him as he said them; they seemed to flow from his lips without any mental urging from him. "Ever."

She blushed, finally meeting his eyes again. "Why are you like this, Damon? You're…really different than you were before you were trapped in the tomb," she said hesitantly.

"Maybe I like different. It keeps people on their _toes_." He roguishly waggled both eyebrows, then paused. They stared at each other for a few seconds without speaking, tension steadily building between them. Then he uncertainly reached out with one hand to touch her face. She flinched, but didn't move away as he gently stroked the side of her face. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, before he could stop himself. He instantly tried to drop his hand from her face, but she caught it and held it in place with one of her own hands.

"Damon–" she began, then her voice broke.

"What is it, Ms. _Gilbert_?" he asked flippantly, hoping she couldn't detect the unevenness in his voice.

When she continued to stare at him without speaking, he pulled his hand away and let it drop to the floor. "I should go," he said abruptly, climbing unsteadily to his feet. "Before something happens that we'll both regret."

Elena leapt up, slipping on a piece of glass but managing to regain her balance just in time. "Damon, don't go."

Damon forced the perfect amount of harsh anger into his voice when he spoke again, hoping to make her forget how much she obviously wanted him to stay. "Don't worry, Elena. I'll be back later tonight; we can make plans to rescue your precious Stefan then."

"No." She caught his arm as he turned to go, holding him back. "Damon…there's something between us. A…spark or something. I can't really explain it properly." She hesitated, blushing again with clear embarrassment. "I don't think you should–"

The doorbell rang.

They froze, staring at each other, then Elena sighed heavily. "I'll be right back. _Don't_ go anywhere," she said, hurrying towards the front door.

Damon quickly limped after her, ignoring the many protests from his legs. Given what had just happened with the five werewolves, who knew what else could be waiting when she answered the door? He wasn't going to chance letting her get killed after the fierce battle they had already gone through this morning.

Just as he managed to limp into the front entry hall, Elena had already reached the door. She frowned at him over her shoulder, eyes raking over his extremely disheveled appearance. Muttering something that Damon didn't quite catch, and certainly didn't ask her to repeat, she opened the door.

Alaric Saltzman, covered with his own blood, fell to the ground at her feet.

**

* * *

**

Please review! :D


	11. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks for reviewing on the last chapter, everyone! :D

* * *

Chapter Ten

Elena gasped out loud as her former history teacher fell into a crumpled heap at her feet. "Alaric!" she cried frantically, all thoughts of the scene in the kitchen fleeing from her mind. "Damon, get him inside!"

Damon darted forward and grabbed the man's shoulders, dragging into the house. He left him on the rug, and pushed Elena aside. Peering into the brilliant sunlight outside, he saw nothing that seemed amiss. A car was parked just at the curb, driver's side door hanging open. "He drove himself here," he informed Elena, closing and locking the door.

"Put him on the couch. I'll go get something to clean him up with," she said, hurrying out of the room.

Damon grabbed Alaric again and deposited him onto the couch as Elena had told him to do. The blood from Alaric's many wounds smeared across the fabric of the sofa, and Damon briefly hoped that Elena had a good stain remover. He bent and touched two fingers to the man's throat, checking for a pulse. There was nothing. "Damn," he swore. He wasn't really sure how to tell Elena that there was a dead man in her living room.

As though summoned by his very thoughts, she rushed back into the room, holding a dripping washcloth. "How is he?" she asked quickly.

"He's dead," Damon said, deciding not to keep her in suspense.

Her jaw dropped, while she stared at him with horror. "_Dead_?"

"Yeah, and not the kind where he comes back to life as a vampire. Stone cold dead. You should know what I mean; humans are always dropping like flies. Especially around _this_ town." Damon grimaced and rubbed his neck, which had started to ache again. Elena's blood had helped, but apparently not enough.

"But…how did he die?" she choked out, lip trembling. "Something must have attacked him. And why did he come _here_ of all places?"

"I doubt he'll be telling us anytime soon," he said. "Dead men tell no tales, as the saying goes."

Alaric sat up with a loud gasp. Elena screamed and leaped backwards, while Damon jumped about a foot into the air.

"Oh my God. I thought you said he was dead!" Elena shouted, as Alaric panted and tried to catch his breath.

"I thought he was!" Damon fired back, features fixing themselves into a dark scowl. He could only hope that no one had seen him jump like a coward. He was supposed to be a fearless _vampire_, for God's sake.

"Sorry," Alaric choked out, leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, several seconds later, he seemed more rested. "I guess you didn't…._Damon Salvatore_?"

Damon folded his arms. "That's me, last time I checked. Now who the hell are you, _really_? Because I've never heard of a history teacher who was able to come back from the dead."

"None of the rumors that Katherine has been spreading around are true," Elena rushed to explain. "Damon is innocent; he's been buried in a tomb outside town for the last five years."

Alaric carefully studied the vampire, but seemed to buy Elena's story. "That's pretty bad luck."

"I'm trying my best to turn it around now."

"Here." Elena offered the washcloth to Alaric, who held it to his bloodied cheek. She then sat down beside him on the couch, eyes never leaving his face. "I don't mean to be rude, but how is it that you were _dead_ thirty seconds ago?"

Alaric shrugged sheepishly, then grimaced. He held up his right hand; on his middle finger glimmered a large silver ring. "My ex-wife gave me this several years ago, before I even came to Mystic Falls. I found out a couple of years ago that it brings me back to life after I've been killed. Not that I'd like to try it out any more than necessary."

Elena's lips formed an O. "Brings you back to life…?"

He nodded.

"Just who is this ex-wife of yours, anyway?" Damon said suspiciously.

The teacher gave the vampire a dark look. "I doubt you've heard of her."

"Try me."

"That's enough, Damon," Elena said quickly, before another brawl could break out in the middle of her house; the werewolves attacking had been more than enough. "Okay, so you can't die as long as you're wearing that ring, Alaric. I've heard of stranger in _this_ town. But what happened to you to make you die this time?"

He hesitated, still dabbing his bloody face. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, especially since I just found out myself…but the mayor and his employees are…werewolves." He quickly looked to both Damon and Elena for their reactions.

"You don't say," Damon said, thinking of the five wolves lying dead in the next room.

"We know," Elena added. "We had a little run-in with some of them a few minutes ago, actually."

Alaric frowned. "So did I. Several of them attacked me while I was leaving the Mystic Grill. You were the only person I could think of to go to, Elena. The closest house of someone I trusted."

"But why would they attack you?" she wondered. "Did you do something wrong recently?"

"It's no secret that I disapprove of Katherine's reign," Alaric said. "And Mayor Lockwood is obviously very closely tied to the vampires; now we know why. And it probably doesn't help that I plan to take down the regime."

It took a few seconds for Alaric's words to sink in, then Damon exchanged a sharp look with Elena. "Maybe my hearing is starting to fade with old age, but _what_ did you just say?"

Alaric leaned back against the couch, heedless of the blood smeared all over him. "I have a contact, someone from out of town. He's generously offered his help. My contact has got a plan to effectively take down all the werewolves, leaving Katherine more vulnerable. And that's only the beginning."

Elena gasped out loud, and Damon quickly looked at her. "Is there any way you can tell your contact not to harm Tyler Lockwood? He's on our side, Alaric. I really think he is."

Alaric looked to Damon, who nodded reluctantly. "She's right. Tyler just started the Changing process tonight. So he hasn't been attacking anyone in town. Which you people usually seem to think is a plus."

"Okay, I'll do what I can for him. I don't want Tyler killed anymore than you do, Elena," he relented.

"So when's all this stuff your contact's got planned going to go down?" Damon asked.

"Tonight, at exactly midnight. And if you'll help me, we can take out all the vampires at Katherine's headquarters while my contact and his associates are getting rid of the werewolves."

"And everything would finally be over?" Elena asked, looking like she thought all this was too good to be true.

"That's the plan."

"I don't mean to be rude, _Ric_," Damon said, "but just how do you plan to take out all these vampires? We're harder to kill than you would think."

"I know enough about vampires to kill them," Alaric said. "My wife was a paraphysiologist."

"Oh, your mysterious wife again."

"I never knew that," Elena said, seeming to be totally ignoring Damon.

"We never really had a chance to talk outside of class in the old days," Alaric said. "And it's not exactly something I'm broadcasting around town now that we're ruled over by vampires."

Elena nodded understandingly. "So what's the plan?"

"I'll come back around eleven tonight, and the three of us can head to the mansion," Alaric said. "I've got a special kit prepared to use on the vampires. It should make things a little easier on us."

"So let me get this straight," Damon began, arching a brow. "You think that the _three of us_ can take down Katherine and all her followers with a collection of _stakes_? You're in denial, Ric. Kathy's over a century old; she's not going to play nice while we try to kill her."

"I know that," Alaric said tightly. "But I think that if we work together, we can end this tonight. I'll talk to Tyler and see if he's willing to help, if that would make you feel better, Damon."

"I don't know if Tyler would feel comfortable helping with this," Elena said. "This _is_ his father's regime we're taking out, remember?"

"I think you'll be surprised. Tyler isn't on the best of terms with the mayor right now."

Damon suddenly stiffened, glancing over his shoulder. He'd heard a faint noise, coming from somewhere in the kitchen. "I'll be right back," he said distractedly, interrupting Elena midsentence. "Feel free to carry on without me."

He then turned and strode out of the room, into the hallway, and towards the kitchen. He noticed a faint smell as he approached the room, which stood out from the vile werewolf blood that was already splattered haphazardly across the area. It smelled sort of like human blood, but there was something _off_ about it. Nevertheless, it clearly meant that someone who shouldn't have been was present in the kitchen.

Tensing for a possible ambush, Damon paused at the corner just before he came to the kitchen. Then he sprang around and landed silently on the balls of his feet, expertly scanning the room. He looked past the five wolf bodies, the crimson blood splashed across the tile, and the broken set of French doors. But nothing else was there. Whoever he had smelled a moment ago was gone now.

Damon frowned, then walked over to the doors leading outside. He stood just inside and peered past all the broken glass into the back yard. He saw absolutely no one.

"Maybe I'm getting stupid in my old age," he said, to no one in particular.

He heard the sound of two pairs of footsteps entering the room, then Elena asked worriedly, "Damon? Is something wrong?"

"What _happened_ in here?" Alaric exclaimed at the same time, apparently noticing the gruesome scene that filled the once-tidy kitchen.

"Remember how I mentioned that Damon and I already knew about the werewolves? Well, this is how we found out," Elena said.

"What about Jeremy? Is he okay?"

"He actually saved my life, if you can believe that," Damon said, rolling his eyes. "But try not to spread that around too much; I want it kept on the quiet side."

He started to turn back to face the two humans, then for the first time noticed the single black hair dangling from a jagged shard of glass still attached to the frame of one of the doors. "Well, well. What have we got here?" he wondered, plucking the hair from the glass and holding it up into the sunlight.

"What is it?" Elena asked, sounding a little afraid of what he would say.

"I thought I heard someone in here, and I guess I was right. Ladies and gentleman, I think we had ourselves an _eaves_dropper." Damon spun around to face Elena, who was chewing her lip nervously. He held up the single hair for approval, then let it slowly drift towards the floor.

Alaric swore colorfully, dropping the washcloth he had formerly held to his cheek. It landed with a wet _splat_ against the tile. "This is just what we _don't_ need. If whoever was listening in goes to Katherine or Lockwood, that the end of all our plans," he said angrily.

"D-did you recognize the hair?" Elena asked nervously. She looked a bit pale.

"I may be a completely _badass_ vampire, but I'm not a forensics expert," Damon said. "I was born before they even thought about forensics. So no, I didn't recognize it." He paused. "Why? Do you know something that _we_ should know, Elena?"

"No," she said, a little too quickly.

Damon took several steps forward, using a burst of unnatural speed. He gently grabbed Elena's shoulders and peered down into her face. He was so close that could see the individual hairs of her eyebrows, along with the way her pupils dilated involuntarily. He licked his lips, trying to contain himself for Alaric's benefit. No matter how much he wanted to sweep her into his arms and ravish her senseless, it wasn't exactly appropriate for the current situation.

"You should tell us if you know something," he said quietly, meeting her gaze without blinking. "If you know who was here just now, we can stop them before they tell Katherine."

Elena hesitated, and swallowed hard. "No," she whispered. "I don't know who was here."

Alaric ran one hand through his hair. "Elena–"

"She's telling the truth," Damon interrupted, releasing his grip on Elena and stepping away.

"How can you tell? You weren't compelling her, were you?"

"Of course not. But she wouldn't like to me about something like this, not when it could mean trapping Stefan with Kathy dearest for all eternity," he said confidently, meeting her eyes again.

Elena visibly flinched, looking away.

Alaric, who had been gazing curiously between the two of them, shook his head. "I'll see what I can do about rounding up some help from Tyler. And be sure to call me if you figure out who was here."

"Will do!" Damon mimed tipping a hat in the other man's direction, then remained silent until the front door closed behind him. He turned to Elena. "Are you sure you aren't keeping something from me? Remember what I said about my brother, Elena. If Katherine finds out, we're not going to be able to rescue him."

Elena steadily met his gaze. "I'm not lying, Damon."

Damon nodded reluctantly, skillfully hiding his dubiousness. Elena wasn't the best of liars. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what she was hiding.

Only time would tell.

**

* * *

**

I love reviews! :D


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Enjoy! :D

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Mayor Lockwood sat in the leather chair behind his desk, and watched as the door closed behind his unexpected guest. Then he quickly picked up the phone and dialed a secure line that few had ever known, much less called.

There were no less than six rings, then a smooth voice answered, _"Mayor Lockwood. What an unforeseen pleasure. I wasn't expecting a call from you this evening."_

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Ms. Pierce," Lockwood said. It wouldn't have been in his best interests to make the powerful vampire leader of the town angry with him, even for the smallest of offences.

"_Not at all. And please, remember to call me Katherine."_

"Of course. Katherine."

"_And now that all the usual pleasantries are out of the way, why are you calling me? Your next scheduled report isn't until three days from now."_

"One of my undercover associates just overheard something of interest at the Gilbert home. I've instructed her to keep close tabs on Elena Gilbert and her family recently, and she's been doing just that," Lockwood said.

"_And what did she hear?"_ Katherine demanded, suddenly sounding a whole lot more interested than before.

"You remember Alaric Saltzman? We've spoke of him a few times. He somehow managed to escape the assassins I put on his tail this evening, even managing to fatally wound one of them. Then he went to Elena Gilbert's house. And died." He paused for effect.

"_As much as you may find that interesting, Mayor Lockwood, I'm a woman of little patience with such tedious matters. Humans die all the time; it's not uncommon."_

"But that's not the most interesting fact," Lockwood hurried to assure her. "After Saltzman died, he came back to life."

There was dead silence at the other end of the phone, carrying on for almost thirty seconds. And then, _"Explain."_

"My associate was in another room, and had trouble overhearing much of the conversation, but Saltzman seems to have some sort of ring that enables him to come back to life after being killed. As long as he wears the ring, he can't die."

"_Then we need to make sure to get that ring away from him,"_ Katherine said. _"I'll dispatch some of my own associates in the next few days to take care of the matter."_

Mayor Lockwood cleared his throat, straightening his tie with a free hand. "Believe me, Katherine, that's not all. Again, my associate couldn't hear every word that was spoken, but Saltzman is planning some sort of attack on you. Damon Salvatore is going to assist him."

"_When?"_ came a low growl from the other end of the phone. The mayor swallowed hard, blood running cold at the sound of animalistic fury.

"Tonight, at midnight," he said quickly.

Katherine was again quiet for quite some time, and Lockwood waited nervously for her response. _"Send your associate back to the house. Have her bring Damon Salvatore to me, and I will deal with the problem myself."_

"I'll call her now and arrange everything," Lockwood said, just as the line went dead.

He slowly put the phone down and stared at it for a few seconds, then picked it back up and dialed.

* * *

Katherine slammed the phone back into its cradle, watching with no real pleasure as it crushed behind the enormous burst of strength she used on it. Then she angrily pushed her chair back and stood, struggling to keep her temper in control. Her father had always told her that a real lady never showed any visible signs of rage, not even when in private.

She strode to a mirror on the wall beside the door that led from her office and into the hallway. She studied her flawless reflection for a few moments, and brushed several tightly-curled strands of hair back over her shoulder. Once she was satisfied that she looked completely in control and at ease, she strode from the room.

Several of the vampires she had converted to make up her army were loitering as she marched calmly towards her destination, but they all fell silent and nodded respectively at her as she passed. She allowed a small smile at their submissiveness, but showed no other reaction. Just as her father had taught her.

Upon reaching the door to the basement, Katherine smoothed wrinkles that didn't exist from her shirt before descending into the darkness. Her vision adjusted to the inherent lack of light almost instantly as she slowed her steps and walked calmly to the cell.

As always, Stefan was curled into a small ball in the corner of the tiny room. He looked even more lifeless than usual, and Katherine shook her head disapprovingly. She stood and watched him lying there for a short time, stroking the two rings – one belonging to her and one to Stefan – that she wore on her left hand.

"Guess what, darling," she said eventually. "Damon is going to be your new roommate soon. Maybe even this evening, if all things go as planned. Isn't that _exciting_?"

Stefan showed no reaction, except for grimly bowing his head.

"At least you won't have to worry about him moving in on your girl anymore," Katherine said with false positiveness, fixing a sweet smile onto her lips. "That's always a good thing, isn't it? Oh, I do hope the two of you will get in a fight over Elena's honor after I've thrown him in here. That would be so _exciting_!"

She clapped her hands like a demented cheerleader, then turned to leave. "Bye, Stefan dear! Talk to you soon!"

Stefan stared blankly into the darkness of his cell, listening to her staccato footsteps striding back up the stone steps. If possible, his withered face looked even more dejected than usual.

* * *

Elena looked away from Damon's inquisitive gaze and set about cleaning up the kitchen. Damon watched impassively as she got a mop from the hall closet and started scrubbing vigorously at the bloodstains on the tile.

"I'll get rid of the bodies," he said suddenly. "I'm nothing if not a _gentleman_."

"You, a gentleman? Tell me something I'll believe," she retorted, though her words were less than severe.

"All the _other_ ladies believe it," Damon said with a smirk. Then he set about gathering the bodies, dragging them after him as he stepped out into the back yard. He left a gruesome trail of blood all across the floor, while Elena watched with disapproval.

She walked over to the shattered door, careful not to step on any glass, and leaned on the stick of her mop while gazing into the yard. "What exactly are you going to do with those?" she asked pointedly. "It's broad daylight; someone's bound to notice you cutting across their yard carrying five dead wolves."

"Good point." He dropped the wolves to the grass and glanced around. "Got any trash bags handy?"

Elena sighed and shook her head, then went and got two industrial-sized bags. She gave them to Damon, then returned to her mopping of the kitchen floor.

Damon watched her leave, then set to work. He gathered all the bodies and stuffed them into the two bags. He only felt mildly strange about getting rid of the bodies in this way, but it was the only sensible solution that had come to mind. He dismissed the feeling and heaved both bags over his shoulders. Then he strolled casually around the front of the house, whistling to himself.

Next door, one of the neighbors was out weeding his flowerbed. He stared unabashedly at Damon as the vampire strolled to the dumpster at the curb and dumped both bags inside. He waved cheerfully, then went around to the back again.

He abruptly switched to vampire stealth mode, creeping carefully back into the house. Elena's back was to him as she scrubbed the tile with her mop. Damon smiled wickedly, then leapt forward and pressed himself up against her back. "Guess _who_," he singsonged, reminiscent of just an hour or two earlier that morning.

Elena shrieked and dropped the mop, which fell to the tile with a clatter. She spun around to face him, but didn't pull from his arms. She was almost nose to nose with him. "What is it with you and scaring me half to death?" she demanded breathlessly.

"I can't help it. You scare so easily," he said with a smirk. He easily heard the sudden rapid beating of her heart, and stepped away from her. He bent to pick up the mop, then started briskly scrubbing the floor while swiveling his hips to an unheard rhythm. When he looked up again, Elena was staring at him with her lips slightly parted.

He dropped the mop again and blurred to stand before her, surprised when she didn't jump. "I know, I'm just so unbelievably sexy," he said. "Were you enjoying the view?"

Elena licked her lips, thoughts almost completely transparent on her face. "Damon, don't be stupid," she said halfheartedly, though she didn't back away.

Damon impulsively reached out and grabbed her waist. He swung her towards the floor so that her feet went up past his shoulders, then spun her to her feet again. She was breathless, face flushed, but he didn't let his hands drop from her hips. "You know," he said in a quiet and persuasive voice, leaning towards her, "I never did get to finish telling you about that dream I had."

Her eyes widened. She swallowed hard, then slowly reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "W-want to tell me about it?" she managed to stammer out, obviously very nervous.

He dropped his hands from her waist and gently took her hand from his shoulder. He brushed a kiss lightly across the back of her hand, watching as she shuddered violently. "Maybe I'll save that story for another time," he said.

Elena was only human, and it would be much too easy to force her into doing something against her will with his supernatural appeal. He never would have admitted it out loud, or even to himself, but forcing Elena into doing _anything_ wasn't something he really wanted to do.

She looked like there was something she wanted to say, but hesitated. And that was the exact moment that the doorbell rang yet again.

"What is this place, Grand Central Station?" Damon said, exasperated. "This town has too many than its share of history teachers who have been attacked by werewolves and can't die."

Elena brushed hair from her eyes, obviously trying to compose herself. "Maybe that's Alaric again," she said shakily, not meeting his eye. "He might have forgotten something."

"Yeah, half his blood on your living room couch."

She rolled her eyes, then rushed to get the door. But Damon couldn't help noticing that this time she grabbed the knife Jeremy had used on the werewolves and tucked it into the back of her jeans.

He quickly followed her, pausing by the staircase as she pulled the front door open.

Elena pulled the door open, then froze. "Bonnie?" she said incredulously, though Damon relaxed almost immediately when he saw the identity of Elena's guest. He knew that the witch would never try to murder her own friend, so Elena was safe. And that was what he wanted, for her to be safe. Keeping her that way was harder than it should have been in this town.

"Hi, Elena," Bonnie murmured. "Can I come in?" Damon watched as she made a face at her own choice of words. "Sorry, never mind." She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

"Wow. It's been…a long time," Elena said, sounding breathless.

"I know. But I've been thinking lately, and we should catch up together," Bonnie said. "We used to be the best of friends, didn't we, Elena."

"Yeah, we…oh! Uh, remember Damon?" Elena gestured back at the vampire, who nodded silently towards the dark-skinned witch. "Before you say anything, he's innocent of everything Katherine accused him of. He never got out of the tomb, like the rest of us thought he did."

"I see," Bonnie said calmly, staring at Damon with a strange expression on her face. "That's…unfortunate."

"Yeah, it was. Sorry to hear about your grandmother. Elena tells me she _died_."

Bonnie's hands curled into tight fists, but her gaze never wavered from his. "She was trying to save Stefan and Elena. She exhausted her own life force in the process."

"That's unfortunate," he said.

"Yes," she said. "It was."

"Why don't you finish up with the kitchen, Damon?" Elena said with false bravado. "Bonnie and I will go into the living room." She fixed him with a glare that's meaning was perfectly clear: _get the hell out of here before you ruin everything and I have to make you leave._

"Well, I'll just leave you ladies to it, then. Arrivederci," Damon said charmingly, turning and striding back down the hall. He listened to Elena and Bonnie getting settled in the living room and making awkward attempts at conversation, not pausing until he reached the kitchen.

He studied the clumps of hair and blood splattered around the room, then grimly grabbed the mop Elena had left behind and got to work.

* * *

Elena forced her lips into an exaggerated smile, trying to look welcoming. "So, Bonnie. What have you been up to lately? Learning some new tricks of the trade?" _Tricks of the trade,_ she repeated silently, disgusted with her own attempts at conversation. _How lame was that, Gilbert?_

Bonnie was staring down at her hands, which were twisted together on her lap. "Yes, you could say that." She finally looked up, and Elena felt a strange jolt when their eyes met. There was something strange lurking in the depths of Bonnie's dark gaze, something that actually scared her the smallest bit. "Why are you cheating on Stefan?"

"What?" she asked, almost getting mental whiplash from such a sudden change of subject.

"I saw the way Damon was looking at you, and vice versa," Bonnie said. "It would be obvious to a blind person."

Elena laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse some of the palpable tension lingering in the air. "I really don't know what you're talking about. Damon and I are just friends. He's staying here because Katherine has taken over the Salvatore mansion, and he has nowhere to go. End of story."

"Don't lie to me, Elena. I know you well enough to be able to tell when you aren't being truthful."

"What's your point, Bonnie?" Elena said, feeling herself start to go on the defensive. "So what if Damon and I are a little more than friends? We both need someone right now. And it's not like Stefan is around anymore. Katherine _kidnapped_ him, and I don't even know if he's still alive. I can't just put my whole life on hold."

"When Stefan hurt me," Bonnie went on, like she hadn't even heard a word Elena had said, "I vowed to do everything I could to rid the world of vampires. I vowed to protect my own kind, and no one else."

"What are you saying?" Elena whispered, stomach lurching as she suddenly got a very bad feeling.

"I'm saying that I've been doing just that, ever since Stefan broke my arm. I've been working to get rid of the vampires, slowly but surely. It's taken me a while, but I'm getting there."

"You know that Stefan didn't hurt you on purpose, Bonnie. He was trying to _protect_ you!"

"That's what he wanted you to think, Elena. He's a _vampire_, for God's sake. He drinks _blood_. Why would you trust a monster like that?"

She stood, struggling to keep her temper in check. "I think you should leave. Right now."

Bonnie remained seated, a half smile curving her lips. "Remember that plan I mentioned, the one I've devised to stop Katherine and all the other vampires? Part of the plan has been to act as a double agent, supposedly working on their side and carrying out whatever they tell me to do. It's been hard, but I've done it. And that's why I'm here."

Elena took a step back. "Oh my God. Bonnie, tell me you didn't."

"Katherine wants Damon, and I'm not about to deny her the privilege of torturing him mercilessly. That would put both him and Stefan out of the way, and make two less bloodsuckers in the world." Bonnie slowly got to her feet. "A good day's work, in my book."

_Where the hell is Damon?_ Elena thought angrily, taking another step away from her supposed friend. "Bonnie, this isn't you. You can still stop yourself right now, before you do something you'll regret."

"But that's the thing. I'm _not_ going to regret it." Bonnie waved a hand, and Elena suddenly found that she couldn't move, much less scream for help. Her entire body was frozen solid in place, and she felt like she was slowly suffocating. It was excruciating. "This is something I'm passionate about, Elena, _killing vampires_. And I'm not going to stop what I've been doing for five years just because you asked me nicely."

She tried to plead for help, to beg Bonnie to leave her alone, but her lips wouldn't move. _Damon,_ she whispered silently.

"So I'm sorry, but this is how things have to be," Bonnie said, shaking her head. "Sleep well."

And then Elena felt herself falling, and everything went dark.

* * *

Damon was just finishing with the kitchen, and studied his work with a critical eye. Not that he cared whether Elena was happy with her clean kitchen or not. He just wanted to make sure that the smell – even if it _was_ the smell of revolting werewolf blood – wouldn't make him lose control. Or so he told himself.

A floorboard creaked behind him, and he turned. "What do you say, Elena? Everything to your satisfac–" He broke off as Bonnie lunged for him, eyes flashing sinisterly, and he felt something sharp break through the skin of his arm. Instant pain spiraled through his entire body, then he knew no more.

**

* * *

**

Eep, poor Damon! O_O Please review?


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** To anyone who enjoys a good bit of whump, especially on dearest Damon…I think you'll like this chapter. *evil grin*

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Elena gasped loudly, jolting back into awareness. She was stretched out across the living room floor, scratchy fabric of the rug pressed against her cheek. And she was completely alone; there was no sign of Bonnie.

She slowly sat up, entire body aching. Whatever witchy thing Bonnie had done to her, its aftereffects weren't the best she'd ever felt. Her muscles were throbbing, and her head was pounding like a beating drum. In other words, she wasn't feeling so great.

Then her eyes widened with horror. Damon! Bonnie had knocked her out so she could go after him, and take him to Katherine!

Praying silently, Elena pushed quickly to her feet. She staggered, and fell heavily against the wall. It shook under her weight, a framed photo of her parents coming close to falling from its nail.

Staring forward towards her goal, Elena stumbled towards the kitchen, occasionally grabbing at the wall to keep her balance. It took her around three minutes to make it there, thanks to the spasms of dizziness that continuously swept over her. But her teeth remained gritted with determination, and she fought against the blackness that still trying to overtake her until she reached the end of the hallway.

The kitchen was empty. Several bloodstains still soaked the floor, and the mop lay on the tile beside one of them. But there was no sign of Damon, or of Bonnie. They were both…gone.

She saw something glittering on the floor beside the mop, and staggered forwards. Bending over and nearly falling onto her head, she picked up the empty syringe and stared at it with horror. It only took one hesitant sniff of the needle to recognize the herby scent of vervain.

"Oh my God," she said, nearly dropping the syringe. Swallowing hard, she glanced around the room. Then she lunged for the kitchen phone extension and quickly dialed a number.

"_Elena? Is that you?"_ came a bemused voice from the other end of the line, only four rings later.

"Alaric," she bleated into the mouthpiece, heart pounding. "Bonnie's taken Damon to Katherine!"

* * *

Stefan was lying on his ratty scrap of a blanket, as he always did. There wasn't much else he _could_ do, without any blood in his system to sustain him. He grew steadily weaker with the passing of each and every day, and it was all he could do to stay sane. He had no idea of how much time had passed since Katherine had taken him prisoner, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity of pure hell.

There came a noise from outside the cell, and Stefan grimly resigned himself to the fact that Katherine was likely coming for another one of her _visits_. She came often, and her twisted monologues weren't exactly the highlights of his day. But they helped keep him sane, focused on what real life was like outside this hellhole. Reminded him of the cruel insanity that was Katherine. Reminded him of…Elena. Her gentleness, kindness. She was the complete opposite of his captor.

He waited for Katherine to appear at the rusted bars, to start gloating about what she had been doing throughout the day. And he couldn't have been more surprised when the entire door was torn open, metal screaming and small chunks of wood flying in all directions. He made a weak attempt to shield himself from the scraps of wood, but they painfully pelted his skin nonetheless.

When Stefan had slowly looked up again, Katherine stood in the open doorway. She was wearing jeans and black leather, perfectly curled hair at odds with her modern clothing. Her hands were planted firmly on her slim hips, and her expression was cold. Her body language was mildly frightening, and Stefan vaguely wondered if she had finally decided to kill him and put him out of his misery. She looked like a raging thundercloud ready to strike fire down onto the innocent.

"Hello, darling," she sneered, lips curling back to reveal impossibly white teeth. "How are you this fine morning? Oh, you didn't _know_ it was morning? Well, you do now." She paused and glanced over her shoulder, then stepped into the cell. Stefan felt a shudder run through him at her looming presence, and fought not to openly show his fear. "Just as I promised, I've brought your new roommate. Dear Damon. He didn't put up much of a fight, I'm afraid. A little witch with a syringe full of vervain was able to take him down. That's almost _embarrassing_."

Stefan had time for a sudden surge of horror, then two of Katherine's vampire pawns appeared behind her. They each gripped one of Damon's arms, and the mentioned was hanging loosely between them, out cold.

After a nod from Katherine, the pair of vampires tossed Damon inside, then stepped respectively from the small room. Damon landed with a hard thud a few feet away from Stefan, not moving. Stefan stared at his older brother with shock and dismay, wondering how much vervain he had been given. His skin was pasty and coated with a sheen of sweat, dark hair wet with it. Stefan stared at his brother's unconscious face with some wonder; he had almost forgotten what Damon looked like.

Katherine politely cleared her throat, taking a step forward. "How _adorable_. Reunited at long last, the two Salvatore brothers. That's so sweet that I might actually _throw up_," she said callously.

Stefan swallowed roughly, nearly choking on the extreme dryness of his throat, and tried to speak. He was barely able to move his lips, and all that came out was a strangled whisper.

She chuckled viciously. "Stefan, Stefan, Stefan. Always the hero, aren't you? I assume you were trying to convince me not to hurt Damon. Well, I'm afraid that's not a plausible option. I've got to mark him, just like I did _you_ when I first brought you here."

He had a very bad feeling that he knew what was coming next, and his arm weakly twitched as he tried to reach for Damon, tried to protect him somehow. Unfortunately, he had gone too long without blood to be of any assistance. There was nothing he could do.

Shaking her head at his attempts, Katherine reached down and grabbed Damon by the shirtfront. Hauling him to his feet, she pressed him against the brick wall, courtesy of one restraining arm against his chest. Still Damon didn't stir, lost in the impossibly large amount of vervain that had been pumped into his bloodstream.

Katherine took a moment to make sure Stefan was watching, then her face contorted monstrously. She took a deep breath, twisting her lips back to reveal pointed fangs, then struck. Her teeth sank into Damon's unprotected throat, and his back arched involuntarily from the wall in pain. He groaned quietly, lost in unconsciousness, as waves of excruciating pain swept over him. Stefan didn't want to watch, but couldn't bring himself to look away as Katherine drank greedily, pulling far too much blood from Damon's battered body.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she dropped Damon to the floor. He landed in a crumpled heap, blood instantly beginning to pool around his torn throat.

Katherine smiled and used the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lips. She studied the red mark on her hand, then slowly licked it away, closing her eyes in pleasure. "Watered-down blood," she said after a moment of silence, finally opening her eyes again. She stared down at Stefan with a cold smile. "Not the best blood to drink, but not all bad, of course."

Stefan averted his eyes from Damon's motionless body, feeling a burning in his gums as he stared at the tantalizing puddle of blood. It looked almost black in the darkness.

"Well, ciao for now. I've got more things to take care of before the day is done," Katherine said. "See you later, darlings." She turned and flounced from the cell, a bounce in her step. Seconds later, Stefan watched the flashing sparks as her two pawns began welding the door back into place.

He glanced to Damon, but his brother was still not fully awake. Damon moaned once and turned his head, lost in the pain. And even though he was still unconscious, Stefan felt hope for the first time in a long time. Surely Damon would be able to rescue them both. And even as a little voice deep inside him insisted that it was impossible, he couldn't help hoping.

* * *

Elena was pacing in the front entrance hall, hands clasped in front of herself, when the doorbell rang. She wasted no time springing over and pulling the front door open, then stepped back to allow Alaric to come inside. "Oh my God, Alaric," she said, closing the door again. "I didn't know who else to call!"

He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, averting his gaze from the tears smeared beneath her eyes. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

She sniffled, visibly struggling to regain some control over her emotions. "I was talking to Bonnie in the living room, and she started saying some weird things. She said that Katherine wanted Damon, and she was going to hand him over to make sure that there was one less vampire roaming in Mystic Falls. Then she…did something to me. I don't know what."

"What happened next?" he asked gently.

"I woke up and she and Damon were both gone. This was on the kitchen floor." She produced the syringe from her pocket, handing it to Alaric for further analysis.

He studied it for a moment, then grimly shook his head and placed it on the small table beside the stairs. "Vervain. Bonnie probably injected him with it then dragged him to her car."

Elena stifled a gasp. "Alaric, we've _got_ to go rescue him."

"I know, Elena, and we're going to," he said soothingly. "But it's going to be a lot harder now. Katherine will know we're coming." He paused, frowning. "How did she know Damon was here in the first place? I doubt it was a coincidence that Bonnie decided to show up for a visit with a syringe of vervain on hand."

She swallowed hard, averting her eyes from his.

"Elena, what is it? Do you know something?" he asked quickly, sensing that there was something she wasn't being entirely honest with him about.

She nodded jerkily. "Last night, Katherine came by," she whispered. "She knew about Damon, and she said she'd kill both him and Stefan if we tried to interfere with her plans."

Alaric swore under his breath. "You should have told someone, Elena."

"I didn't want her to hurt Stefan or Damon."

He sighed heavily, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Checking his watch, he told her gravely, "We'll leave as soon as the sun is completely down, which should be about eight o'clock. I'll call…my contact and inform him of the change in plans."

"Okay. Did you ever get a hold of Tyler?"

He shook his head, finished dialing, then held the phone to his ear.

"I'll try to call him. He might be able to help." Elena hurried to the kitchen to grab the phone, feeling desperate. She'd take help from anyone, as long as they were able to stop Katherine and rescue _both_ Salvatore brothers.

She pulled a wrinkled phonebook from under the kitchen counter and flipped to the L section. After a few seconds, she found the Lockwood home number. She dialed the listed number and waited.

After four rings, someone picked up. _"Hello?"_

"Mrs. Lockwood? Is Tyler in?" Elena asked, crossing her fingers.

"_Yes, he is. May I ask who's calling?"_ the mayor's wife asked suspiciously.

"This is, um, Caroline Forbes," she lied, thinking quickly. "I wanted to talk to him about a, um, party this Saturday." She figured that Mrs. Lockwood would be more willing to let her son talk to the sheriff's daughter than an evil vampire's twin.

"_Oh, Caroline. I didn't recognize your voice for a moment," _she cooed, voice full of false pleasantness. _"How's your mother doing, dear?"_

"Uh, fine. Really good."

"_Good. Well, here's Tyler, dear."_

"Thanks, ma'am."

There was a click, then Tyler's voice came onto the line. _"Caroline?"_ he asked, sounding suspicious.

"Tyler, it's me. Elena. Uh, Gilbert."

"_Uh, hi,"_ he said, sounding confused. "_Sorry, I thought my mom said it was Caroline."_

"It's about Damon," Elena said quickly, not bothering to correct him. "Bonnie kidnapped him and took him to Katherine."

There was a moment of silence. _"No offense, Elena, but I'm supposed to care _why_?"_

She tried her best not to feel like she'd been verbally slapped, silently telling herself that Tyler probably didn't mean the obvious disdain in his voice. He was just tired from the Change, that was all.

"Tyler, this is serious. Who knows what Katherine's going to do to him!" She was clutching the phone so tightly that her hand hurt, and hastily loosened her grip.

"_Just a minute."_ There were a lot of muffled scratching sounds, and quiet voices, like Tyler had covered the phone with his hand. _"Okay, Elena. I can talk now. But like I said a minute ago, Damon Salvatore means nothing to me. All right? It was nice and all that you guys helped me through my Change, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to go up against Katherine's empire to rescue him." _

Elena swallowed hard. "Tyler, please consider this. I don't think there's any way to rescue Damon – and Stefan – without your help," she pleaded.

"_I'm really sorry. But I'm not some snarling guard dog or something. I'm a werewolf. And I've only Changed once, and partially at that. You can't just unleash me on your enemies like that kid from __Ginger Snaps 2__."_

She frantically scanned her memory, trying to think of something she could say to bring Tyler over to her side. Anything. Then she realized something, a figurative light bulb flashing on inside her mind. It was dangerous, since there was really no way to tell just how the young werewolf would react, but she had to try. "Tyler…what if I told you that while we're taking down Katherine, someone else is going to be stopping your father?"

Silence.

"Hello?" Elena said meekly, worried that he'd dropped the phone. Or worse, run to tell Mayor Lockwood about the plan to dethrone him.

"_How? How are you planning to stop my dad?"_

"Um…I don't really know all the details," she said nervously, afraid the wrong word might completely set him off. "But Alaric Saltzman has some contact who'll be taking care of it while we stop Katherine and rescue Damon. And Stefan."

Another long silence. Then, _"I'm in."_

Elena actually took the phone from her ear and looked at it for a few seconds. "Then you'll help?"

"_Yeah."_

"Even if it means…stopping your dad?" she said, unsure whether he fully understood to consequences.

"_I'll do it, Elena, and that's all you need to know. When is this happening?"_

"Tonight, eight o'clock," she said before he could change his mind. "Just come to my house, then the three of us will head to the mansion together. Okay?"

"_Okay."_ The line went dead, and Elena slowly replaced the phone into its cradle. That hadn't worked quite as she'd expected, but at least Tyler had agreed to help in the end.

"Elena? Did you talk to Tyler?" Alaric peered around the corner, just slipping his cell phone into a pocket.

"Yeah. He says he's going to help." She shrugged, not sure what to think. There didn't seem to be much love lost between Mayor Lockwood and his son. "What about your contact?"

"He wasn't very happy with the change in plans, but I managed to convince him. He'll strike Lockwood and his friends around eight."

She nodded slowly. "Good. That's good."

Alaric hesitantly reached out and touched her shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." She took a deep breath. "I'm just really worried about Damon. And Stefan."

"We'll get them back, Elena. I promise."

She smiled hesitantly at him, not sure whether she believed him or not. "Thanks, Alaric. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go get everything ready, but I'll be back around eight. Is that good?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready," she said nervously. She walked Alaric to the door and told him goodbye, then locked up and leaned against the wall. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, struggling to keep a reign on her emotions.

Wetting her lips, she pushed off from the wall and hurried upstairs. The house was completely silent, without the usual rock music pulsing from beneath Jeremy's bedroom door. Elena cast the closed door a wistful glance, wishing her brother was there, then went into her room. She flipped on the light, banishing all shadows from the corners of the room. She dully looked around, unsure what to do to pass the time.

Her gaze landed on the mirror of her vanity table, plastered with pictures of her and Stefan. She walked over and pulled one down, the double-sided tape squeaking its protest. The photograph showed her and Stefan sitting on the bleachers at school. If she remembered right, it had been taken a couple of weeks before she found out the Salvatore secret. Bonnie had used her camera to take the picture.

Elena threw the photo with all her strength, and it fluttered gently to land on the carpet. She could feel tears of anger and fear stinging her eyes, and blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. The last thing she needed to do right then was cry. She needed to focus on rescuing both Stefan and Damon from Katherine.

Damon. She noticed the grainy cell phone picture taped among the glossy prints of her and Stefan, and leaned closer to look at it. Damon was leering out of the picture, while she staggered drunkenly beside him. It wasn't the best of pictures, but it was one that struck a chord of longing deep inside her. Damon didn't deserve this, to be held hostage. He'd only just escaped from the tomb.

Elena folded her arms, looking desperately around her room and continuing to fight the tears she could feel brewing. A sudden burst of inspiration struck her, and she jogged from the room, not even bothering to turn on the light.

She reached Jenna's old room in a matter of moments, and pushed the door wide open. Everything was completely neat, except for the bed, blankets wrinkled where Damon had slept before. Biting her lip, Elena sat down on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. It smelled like Damon.

A single tear leaked down her cheek, despite Elena's best efforts. _God, Damon,_ she thought urgently. _Please be okay. Please._

**

* * *

**

Poor Elena, huh? Any theories on what might happen next? I already know, 'cause I'M the author of this story. *cackles evilly*


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** A very Damon- and Stefan-centric chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it! And how Katherine was able to drink Damon's blood last time is explained halfway through the chapter.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

When he woke up, someone was moaning quietly. The sound seemed to throb through his entire head, which was the moment he realized that _he_ had made the sound.

Damon groggily opened his eyes and glanced around, closing his chapped lips to cut off the sound of weakness. He found that he was lying on his side in a somewhat familiar stone room. It was almost completely dark, though his vampire eyes easily penetrated the gloom. His neck was aching. When he touched it, his hand came away wet with blood.

He slowly moved into a sitting position, and his head swam. The room blurred before his eyes, then snapped back into focus again. He leaned against the cool stone at his back and took several deep breaths while trying to focus.

The last thing he remembered was being inside Elena's kitchen, mopping up werewolf blood. Then…Bonnie stabbing him with a needle? He remembered the sharp smell of fresh vervain, just as the needle entered his arm.

Damon swore loudly. That _witch_!

He needed to get out of here, before something happened. He really had no idea where he was, but he could almost bet that it somehow involved _darling_ Katherine. Why else would Bonnie have attacked him with vervain, and not killed him?

And Elena. He hoped to God – or whoever was listening – that she was okay. If Bonnie had harmed even a single hair belonging to Elena Gilbert, then he would rip her pretty little head off with his bare hands. She was absolutely insane, and since she seemed to be working on the side of Katherine, she had to be stopped. He wondered briefly if witches could be compelled as easily as humans, then dismissed the thought. She hadn't seemed like someone under a vampire's compulsion. Bonnie Bennett was completely in control of her actions.

He was pulled from gruesome thoughts of blood and vengeance when there came a small sound from the far corner of the dark and damp room. He turned instantly towards the sound, and was rewarded by a sharp pain in his temple. He felt momentarily nauseous, then promptly forgot about it as he saw the featureless lump in the corner.

For a moment, it looked like a pile of wrinkled rags, tossed down here and forgotten about it. But as Damon stared, he could make out a pale, withered face. A pair of dark eyes shone out from the wizened face, glittering faintly.

At first, the supposed person was unrecognizable. And then Damon noticed the softly curling hair, limp from remaining unwashed for so long. And the way those dark eyes were boring into his very soul…

"Stefan?" Damon whispered.

The corpse nodded, the jerky movement painful to watch.

Damon tried to swallow his horror, but it was hard. The pain in his chest at seeing Stefan this way threatened to overwhelm him. Whenever he'd bothered to imagine what Stefan might be like, held prisoner by Katherine, he'd never thought of _this_. He'd assumed that Stefan would be compelled, or maybe fed the barest minimal of human blood to keep him alive. He had never thought Katherine would do something like this, something so…evil.

Stefan averted his eyes, the only bright points in his ruined face, and stared into the distance. Even though he didn't speak – probably _couldn't_ speak – it was obvious that he was ashamed. He didn't want his older brother to see him like this.

"You've…you've been here for _five years_? Like _this_?" Damon said.

Stefan nodded again, the movement barely discernable.

He swore violently. "That bitch is going to pay for this, Stefan. I mean it." He tried to stand, intending to tear his way out of the cell, but staggered as soon as his weight was supported on both legs. He slammed into the wall, the impact shaking his very bones, and barely managed to keep standing. "What the hell did she do to me?" He squinted blearily at Stefan, gripping the wall with both hands. His nails dug into the stone, and pain spiraled through both hands.

His younger brother slowly raised a hand. It looked like it belonged to someone over a thousand years old, dead and rotted. He touched his throat, visibly shaking with the effort, then his arm fell to the floor again. It made no more sound than a drifting leaf.

It took Damon a minute to figure out what Stefan meant, then he slowly reached up and touched his throat, where he had found the blood earlier. His experienced fingers immediately recognized the twin holes in his flesh as what they were: a vampire bite. Someone had bitten him, draining the majority of blood inside his body. And he doubted that Stefan had done it, from the way he was still lying weakly in the corner.

"Was it Katherine?" he asked flatly, suppressing his rage. For a vampire's blood to be drank by another was the worst humiliation that one of their kind could ever endure. They were supposed to be the predators, and being turned into the prey was the most horrible embarrassment that existed.

Stefan bobbed his head once.

"You could have drunk some of my blood, too," he said bitterly. "It must have been torture to sit here smelling it. Besides, it's not like you were trying to save me the embarrassment. It's too late for that."

What was left of Stefan's face twisted into an expression of regret. What he meant to convey was obvious: he was sorry that he hadn't been able to stop Katherine. And he would have never attacked Damon when he was down. Damon knew he was too honorable for such a thing. How annoying.

"So what's the plan? How are we going to get out of here, brother?" Damon idly rubbed the wound on his neck, which was fairly singing with pain.

When the silent answer was Stefan shaking his head, he felt a mixed sense of disbelief and fear. Fear because Stefan _never_ gave up. So what if he had been trapped in this hellhole for five whole years? He should have a plan ready and waiting, with so much time to think.

"What are you saying? That we're supposed to sit in here and rot for eternity, with Kathy dearest constantly popping it for little heart-to-heart convos?"

Stefan's gray lips parted, expression contorting with pain. A gravelly voice like leaves blowing along the sidewalk rattled from his mouth. "We don't…have a…choice."

Damon swore violently and punched the wall. Instead of the rough stone giving under his attack, it was the other way around. There was a harsh cracking sound. Damon yelped angrily and clutched his hand.

"Don't…fight her. It…only…gets worse," Stefan rasped, slumping into an even smaller pile of rags than before. Speaking out loud, even just a few words, was sucking the energy from him frighteningly fast.

"Damn it, Stefan! I know you've been locked in this place for five years, but you shouldn't have lost hope so entirely! I came to get you out as soon as I got away from the tomb!" Not entirely true, but Stefan didn't need to know _all_ the details.

But he didn't answer. He was already too weak from speaking those few words.

Damon thinned his eyes, mind whirling with various thoughts and strategies. Then, before he could change his mind, he gripped the wall as hard as he could. With a violent wrenching of his muscles, he managed to tear a tiny piece of stone away from the wall. He clutched it firmly in one hand, experimentally testing its weight.

"What…doing?"

"Time for lunch, Stef," he said with a wicked grin, wielding the jagged piece of stone like a sacrificial dagger. He paused just enough to watch understanding and horror dawn in Stefan's eyes, then brought the rock down on his own neck. Grimacing in pain, he slowly traced it along the vampire bite on the side of his neck, deliberately widening the wound. It was excruciating, and the spicy scent of fresh blood filled the small cell. "I think most of the vervain is out of my blood now. Katherine apparently sucked it out like snake venom."

Or so he assumed. If she hadn't thrown up immediately after drinking his blood, which was how vampires as old as she was were enabled contact with vervain, she was bound to be _very_ sick at that moment. He couldn't help smiling wryly at such a mental picture.

Stefan made a defenseless grunting sound in the back of his throat, making it obvious that the scent of blood was already tugging at him, both mentally and physically. Damon smiled grimly, recognizing the fact that Stefan literally couldn't resist the intoxicating smell.

"I know it's watered-down and everything, human blood that I the sexy vampire consumed, but I'm sure you'll like it just the same," Damon said in a hard voice. He dropped the rock, and it hit the floor with a clatter. "Feel free to drink anything our _sweet southern bell_ left behind."

Stefan tried to shake his head, but the lust on his face was unmistakable. "Da…mon…"

"No excuses. Drink up." Damon inserted false bravado into his voice, staggering over to his brother. He dropped to the ground, grimacing at the pain that went almost instantly through his legs, then leaned towards Stefan. He closed his eyes and waited, knowing it was only a matter of time before Stefan gave in.

He was right.

He heard a rustling sound as Stefan painfully dragged himself forward. Then came the stabbing pain through his neck as a pair of sharpened fangs sank into his aching flesh. He bit back a groan and tensed, steeling himself against the pain. He knew that the slightest sign of agony he displayed would be enough to make Stefan stop. And at least one of them needed to be strong in order to escape this place. He definitely wasn't, so that left Stefan.

The feeling of blood being drawn from his body was hard to ignore, and it was even harder for him to sit still. Every primal instinct was screaming that he break away, get free from the teeth tearing into him. It took all his willpower to keep absolutely unmoving. He gritted his teeth so hard that something inside his mouth cracked, though the minor pain wasn't as distracting as he would have liked.

Just when it seemed like Stefan would never finish, he pulled away. Damon fell backwards and crashed against the wall, a ringing sound echoing through his head as it hit the stone. He took several deep breaths, trying to force away the black fog swirling around the edges of his vision. It was all he could do to keep from passing out. Stefan had very nearly drained him dry, and he probably only just the smallest amount of blood in his body, just enough to keep him from dying.

Damon, when he felt as in control of his weakening body as possible, glanced to his brother. Stefan was halfway sitting up, some color returning to his gray skin. Blood was smeared grotesquely across his lips.

"Just what the doctor ordered?" Damon joked weakly, resting his head against the wall. He'd never felt so weak and pathetic in his entire life, even just after breaking free from the tomb.

"You…shouldn't have done that," Stefan said quietly. Already his voice sounded several tones back to normal.

"I donate half my life's worth of stolen blood to you, and all you can say is that I _shouldn't_ have? Gee, you're a friendly sort."

Stefan was spared having to answer when the door leading into the basement slammed open. Both brothers froze at the sound of footsteps coming down the steps, whoever it was making no effort to hide their presence.

Moments later, a face that Damon hadn't seen in nearly a hundred years appeared at the bars of the cell door. He couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath as he took the face in. Soft brown curls, perfectly shaped dark eyes, flawless skin. It was undeniably Katherine, looking several years younger than Elena's human self. She was beautiful.

And he hated the very sight of her.

"If I _could_, I'd probably spit in your face," he said, effectively wiping the smirk from her lips. "Then tear your head off. How about it? Mind letting me out for a bit of _fun_?"

"And I had almost forgotten just why I _hate_ you so much, Damon Salvatore," she purred. "You don't know when to stop _mouthing_."

"Forgive me if I don't get up. You recently drank my blood, and I'm not feeling my best," Damon leered at her.

If he'd been hoping to catch her off-guard, he didn't succeed. "Sorry, darling. It was necessary. And don't worry, dear Stefan received the _exact_ same treatment when he came to join me here." She beamed demurely to complete her statement.

Damon couldn't help glancing at Stefan, who stared back at him from within the torn rags that consisted of his clothing. He didn't move, most of his face pressed to the floor. He was obviously trying to keep Katherine from noticing that he had regained some of his strength, which was smart to say the least.

Damon turned back to face the gorgeous vampire, fighting to keep the pain and weariness he could feel inside off his face. "What do you want, Katherine?" he asked in a hard voice. "Why keep Stefan and I here? Just let us out, and we won't bother you." He tried his best to sound perfectly sincere.

Katherine leaned against the door, lazily dangling a slim arm through the bars. Damon would have risked lunging for her, but he knew that she would easily be able to avoid any weakened attacks he happened to make. "Because I _know_ you, Damon. You _and_ Stefan. Neither of you would ever stand by and allow me to rule over Mystic Falls in peace. So, _obviously_, I can't allow either of you to roam freely. You're both too much of a hazard to my operations."

"What, you're planning to keep us locked in this crappy excuse of a room for _all_ _eternity_?" Damon demanded, unable to keep the scorn from his voice. "Oh yes, that's definitely the most sensibly nefarious plan I've _ever_ heard."

Her lips pursed, and her eyes thinned minutely, but she didn't respond.

"What's supposed to stop me from escaping? We both know I'm stronger than you, _Kathy_," Damon bluffed.

She snarled, the sound causing the hairs to rise all over Damon's arms. "If you both escape, then my problems will be solved. There's no way for either of you to leave the mansion, and you never will." She angrily held up her other hand, where three large silver rings glittered.

Damon involuntarily reached for the hand where he normally wore his ring. What his eyes were telling him was immediately backed up by solid evidence: his ring was gone. Katherine had taken it, just like she apparently had done the same with Stefan's.

If the pair of them ever escaped, they would be trapped.

Damon took a deep breath, despite the pain that the motion caused. "Once I get out of here, I'm going to take all three of those rings from you. Then I'm going to put you in the sunlight and watch you burn." He twisted his lips into a charming smile, which conflicted sharply with the angry look in his eyes.

Katherine froze for a moment, like the calm before a storm. Damon's chest constricted as he suddenly realized that maybe he'd gone just a bit too far this time. Then his worst theories were confirmed as she abruptly withdrew both arms through the bars. She pulled off one of the rings and held it up, so that both imprisoned Salvatores could see it. Damon immediately recognized it as his own, after so many years of never once removing it.

Three sets of eyes were locked on that small band of silver, like it was the key to civilization itself. And for Damon, it was. He couldn't survive without the handy little trinket, which kept him from burning in the sun. Several moments passed, then Katherine quickly closed her hand around it. There was a small screech of protesting metal, then the silver grains that remained of the ring trickled slowly through her fingers.

Damon simply stared, mouth agape with horror. Stefan's body tensed, but he still didn't break his façade of defenselessness.

Katherine laughed coldly at Damon's expression, opening her hand and displaying the fine dust in the palm of her hand. "You won't be needing it anymore, Damon. You're never leaving this place alive, so there's no need for you to worry. And you'll soon be a corpse like your brother, anyway. But no matter. Corpses can't talk back."

She smoothed her shirt and carefully wiped the dust from her palm. "Well, that's all for now. I'll be back later to continue this little chat, because I have certain _business_ to take care of at the moment. Goodbye, sweethearts."

Then she strolled from the room, leaving the two Salvatores staring dismally after her.

**

* * *

**

Wow, things don't look good for Damon, do they? Or Stefan, for that matter. Reviews would be much appreciated.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Check out my profile for a link to a poster I made for this story. It's near the bottom, right above the list of my fics and their status. :)

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

When the hands of Elena's watch reached seven thirty, she went to her room and changed her clothes. She took off her red shirt and jeans and tossed them in the general direction of the overflowing laundry hamper, replacing them with a black t-shirt and black jeans. She pulled her hair into a low ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. After checking herself over in the mirror to make sure she looked perfect for a dangerous rescue mission, she headed downstairs.

Then, much like she had done a few hours earlier, Elena found herself pacing nervously in the entryway. She walked back and forth across the tile maybe fifteen times before a pair of headlights finally flashed across the front of the house. She rushed to the window and peered warily outside. A silver car was pulling up into the driveway, three men sitting inside. She recognized Alaric and Tyler in the front seat, but couldn't determine who sat alone in the back.

The driver's side door opened, and Alaric unfolded himself from inside the vehicle. He now wore all black, just as Elena did. A thick belt was strapped around his waist, full of knives and syringes and other nasty weapons. He definitely looked the part of a hunter headed for a vampire's den.

Tyler stayed in the car, but the back door opened and the unidentifiable figure climbed out. Elena immediately recognized her brother, thanks to his perpetually messy hair and slumped posture.

Elena quickly opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. "Jere! What's going on?" she demanded, curious as to just how her brother had managed to end up inside a car with a vampire hunter and a werewolf.

"We saw Jeremy walking home and decided to give him a lift," Alaric said, walking up the steps to join her. Jeremy followed silently.

"So he's not…?" She trailed off, highly conscious of Jeremy's half-lidded stare.

Alaric seemed to know what she meant, and quickly shook his head. "No, Elena, not unless you really want that."

She involuntarily heaved a sigh of relief. There was no way Jeremy was coming along on this mission, not when they didn't know what they were walking into. Damon had been the hired muscle of the operation, and without him, who knew how the whole thing would turn out.

Turning to her brother, Elena forced a smile onto her face. "I'm going out for a while, Jeremy."

"With your _history teache_r?" he asked dubiously, both hands stuffed in his pockets. "What about Damon?"

"Uh, he's not…he's not my history teacher anymore, Jere," Elena managed. "And what _about_ Damon?"

He shrugged. "I thought you two were a couple now. Or do you have to have sex for to happen? I'm a little rusty on the _official_ _rules_."

Mortified, Elena purposefully averted her eyes from Alaric. Alaric suddenly became very preoccupied with studying one of his boots, rubbing it against the edge of one of the concrete steps. "Damon and I are _not_ a couple, Jeremy," she snapped heatedly, cheeks suddenly feeling warm despite the cool breeze ruffling her hair.

He stared back at her without blinking. "Then why are you more concerned about rescuing him than you are Stefan?"

"I'm not…you aren't….that's ridiculous! _Of course_ I'm worried about Stefan!" Elena could feel her temper steadily intensifying, and it was all she could do not to start shouting.

Alaric awkwardly cleared his throat. "Elena…"

Jeremy shrugged carelessly, as though Alaric had never spoken. "It sure doesn't look like it from this end, Elena." He stepped past her and turned the knob of the front door. "Have fun, and be careful." He went inside and closed the door without another word.

Elena stared after him for a few seconds, then turned to Alaric. "Ready?" she asked, briskly clearing her throat.

He nodded. "You probably already noticed, but I picked Tyler up on the way here. He's ready."

She glanced towards the car, and saw a pair of eyes glittering, dog-like, in the shadows. "Wow. He's really a…you know," she mentioned nervously, in a low voice. "I saw it happen and everything, but…it's still weird."

Alaric casually followed her gaze, then looked startled. "You've seen him Change?"

"Only partially. He hasn't made the full Change yet. Damon said–" She broke off at the thought of Damon, wondering what kind of torture Katherine was currently putting him through.

The car's horn honked loudly, Tyler apparently having leaned over to press the button.

"I think he's ready to get this over with," Alaric noted.

Elena nodded, swallowing hard, then headed for the car. She climbed into the seat Jeremy had just vacated, while Alaric got into the driver's seat, strapped the seatbelt across his chest, and backed expertly from the drive.

"Hi, Tyler," Elena spoke up hesitantly, as they started down the street. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess," he said shortly. It was obvious he didn't really want to talk about what had happened in the woods. "And you guys really shouldn't talk about me when I can hear you."

Elena blinked. "You could _hear_…?"

He tapped a finger against one of his ears. "Werewolf hearing, remember? Haven't you ever seen any of the movies?"

"Elena, do you see that black bag? It should be on the seat beside you," Alaric interrupted, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

She nodded, gingerly pulling it onto her lap. "Yeah, I've got it."

"There's a pair of knives in there, one for you and one for Tyler."

"I don't need one," Tyler said.

"Elena said you haven't Changed completely yet. You'll need a way to defend yourself."

"I'll be _fine_," he insisted.

Elena opened the latch on the bag. Her fingers found the cold metal of a large pocketknife, which she pulled from the canvas and inspected in the faint light. She tested its weight against her palm, experimentally flicking out the blade, then folded it back up and tucked it into the front of her shirt.

Alaric looked at her in the mirror again, barely missing the movement. "Make sure Katherine won't see it on you if we get caught," he cautioned. "It's always good to have the element of surprise."

Elena smiled secretively. "Oh, she won't find it."

He didn't seem to pick up on the hidden meaning behind her words, leaning forward to switch off the headlights. "We're here," he said in a low voice, returning Elena to the gravity of the situation. It seemed like they'd been driving for only a few minutes. He pulled off the road, into the ditch, and turned off the engine. The trio was immediately bathed in silence.

"How are we going to do this?" Tyler asked. As he turned his head, Elena saw his eyes glowing in the dark like a cat's.

"We've got to sneak inside and find where Katherine is keeping Stefan and Damon," Alaric said quietly. "Both of you can take care of that, while I deal with Katherine and all her friends."

"How about you and Elena find Damon and Stefan, and _I'll_ take care of Katherine," Tyler suggested. "I'm a _werewolf_."

"And I can't die," Alaric said firmly, ignoring the startled look Tyler gave him at this revelation. "Just find them and get out. Make sure nothing happens to any of you."

"But what if someone cuts the ring off? Could you still survive?" Elena demanded. She got no answer. "I think Tyler should go with you. Once I get Damon – and Stefan – free, they can help me."

Alaric shook his head, turning to look at her over the front seat. "No, Elena. Stefan's been here for five years, and I highly doubt that Katherine's been _feeding_ him, if you know what I mean. And as for Damon…who knows what she's done to him since Bonnie brought him here."

At the thought of Bonnie, Elena clenched both hands into tight fists. She had to mentally force the overwhelming fury to the back of her mind before she could speak again. "Alaric, I mean it. There's no way you can fight off however many vampire goons Katherine's got on her side, not on your own."

"You've got to get Stefan and Damon free," Alaric told her. "Just concentrate on that. I'll be fine."

She hesitated, biting her lip. "I don't–"

"Not that this isn't entertaining, but shouldn't we get going? If we sit outside arguing in the car long enough, we won't have to sneak in; Katherine will find us herself," Tyler said impatiently.

"All right," Alaric agreed, opening his car door. He climbed out, pushing it silently closed behind him. Elena and Tyler followed suit. "Elena, where do you think Katherine might be hiding them?"

She thought for several seconds. "I'm not sure. Maybe the basement?"

"Okay, the two of you head directly to the basement when we get inside. I'll take care of the rest."

Elena nodded slowly, but she had a very bad feeling about the way things were going. She didn't like the idea of Alaric going off on his own, but there didn't seem to be any way to change his mind. He was dead set against stopping Katherine on his own.

"Let's go," Alaric muttered, interrupting her thoughts.

The three of them set off towards the mansion, which looked dark and imposing against the starless sky. No was out in the yard, thankfully, and they were able to make it to one of the large side windows without being discovered.

"Do you know where this goes?" Alaric whispered to Elena, as the three of them crouched in a perfectly weedless flowerbed. Apparently Katherine somehow managed to find the time to tend to her flowers, despite most of her time being taken up with bending Mystic Falls to her wicked wishes.

"I think it's one of the kitchen windows," she muttered back, brow furrowed in thought. "There shouldn't be anyone in there at this time of night, unless it's to get a blood bag from the fridge."

He nodded. "It should be perfect, then." He slowly stood, glancing around, and pulled a small knife from his belt. He effortlessly used it to pry the window open, then pushed it in and climbed over the sill. Elena followed, tumbling gracelessly into the dark room beyond, while Tyler brought up the rear.

Elena chewed her lip, blinking rapidly as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the blackness. She could see Tyler's eyes glowing eerily, and was briefly envious of his uncanny ability to see in the dark. "I think the basement is that way," she breathed, pointing to one of the doors leading from the kitchen.

Alaric nodded. "Tyler, make sure nothing happens to her," he instructed grimly. "I'll go in the opposite direction."

"Are you sure about this?" Elena asked quietly, hoping to change his mind. "You could just–"

He nodded, cutting her off midsentence. "I'm sure, Elena. Now both of you get a move-on and rescue Stefan and Damon before it's too late."

Swallowing thickly, Elena nodded and started in the direction she thought to be the basement. Tyler hurried soundlessly after her, more like a living shadow than a person. They rounded the corner and found themselves in a wide hallway, filled with shadows.

Tyler's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. "Vampires," he hissed darkly, eyes flickering back and forth across the hallway.

"Where?" Elena felt goosebumps break out on her arms. Terror surged through her; what if they were found before they could get to the basement?

"They're all over the house," was his cryptic answer. "But I don't think there's any around here. For the moment." He took another deep breath, then nodded down the hall. "Shouldn't we get moving?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'm just really…you know." Elena started warily down the hallway, footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. She was careful to avoid the various objects set up strategically along the walls. Tyler walked at her side, and his presence was vaguely comforting.

Elena was almost starting to believe that their mission would actually succeed.

* * *

Between the nearly unpenetrable blackness and the stifling silence, Alaric almost felt like he was suffocating. He gripped a cold metal stake in one fist and a knife treated with vervain in the other. He was ready for anyone with teeth he came across, and intended to do as much damage as he possibly could.

He was nearing a corner at the far end of the hall when he heard voices. He instinctively froze, pressing his back to the wall, then slowly peered around the corner. Two vampires had their backs to him, and seemed to be playing cards. A dim light from a lamp on a table across the room provided the only light.

He took a deep breath, muscles tensing, then charged soundlessly into the room. He'd staked both vampires before they even heard him coming, and they both hit the carpet. Paper playing cards fluttered down to join their motionless bodies.

"Two down," he muttered, catching his breath and glancing around the room. There didn't seem to be anyone else present, so he slipped back out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. He continued on, wondering if Elena and Tyler had reached their destination and freed the Salvatores yet. He hoped the four of them could get out without facing any threats. Tyler and Elena weren't trained to defend themselves, and neither Stefan nor Damon were very likely to be in any shape to help out.

He'd come to another turn in the hallway, which seemed to dead-end into a room. He could see light faintly shining from the room, so he once again pressed himself to the wall and peered around the corner.

Three more vampires, all male, were crowded around a wing-armed chair in the far corner. Bonnie Bennett sat in it, legs tightly crossed and tension fairly radiating from her body. Even though Elena claimed she had been the one to take Damon, seeing her here inside this predator's den was like a knife through Alaric's chest. She had been one of his prized students, back in the day. Now she was…different. Changed. On Katherine's side.

"I thought you said she was coming," Bonnie snapped, presumably to the trio of vampires.

"Katherine's got some business to take care of, _then_ she'll be here," one of the vampires leered at her. "Why are you so hot-to-trot about leaving? Don't you want to have some _fun_ before you go?"

Bonnie moved so quickly to her feet that her speed almost rivaled that of a vampire's. "Shut up, you filthy _parasite_," she ground out, eyes blazing with rage. "And if Katherine's not here in the next five minutes, I'm leaving. I don't intend to spend my whole night stuck here with _you three_."

"Why not? I'm sure we could make it…worth your while," another of the vampires purred. He reached out in a blur of motion and caught one of Bonnie's wrists in his hand. She visibly strained to pull it away from him, but had no such luck. The vampire was too strong.

Alaric couldn't make himself wait any longer. Moving quickly enough that he hoped to have the element of surprise, he raced around the corner, stake and vervain-laced knife held high. He struck a killing blow to two of them in a matter of seconds, piercing their chests with some difficulty. Unfortunately, the vampire who had been gripping Bonnie's wrist whirled to face him before Alaric could take him out. He snarled, face changing in a heartbeat, and lunged.

Alaric feinted to the right and jumped left instead, leaping out of the vampire's reach. Holding the wooden stake high, he allowed the vampire to circle him, matching him step-for-step and not allowing his back to be left unguarded.

"Who the hell are you?" the vampire growled, not even the slightest bit out of breath.

Alaric made a show of thinking for a moment, hoping to throw the vampire off his game. "Death," he said simply, as soon as the vampire stopped circling to stare expectantly at him. He thrust the stake forward with all his strength and pierced the vampire's chest. The vampire jerked, body going rigid, and hit the floor with a thud, twitching slightly.

Alaric left the stake in and pulled a new one from his belt. "Bonnie, you okay?"

"What are you doing here, Alaric?" she asked calmly, voice completely lackluster.

Hesitant to mention Elena's mission to save the Salvatores, he only said, "Helping you."

"I don't need any help. Believe me, I can take care of myself." When Alaric didn't answer, she continued coldly. "Let me guess. Dear little Elena is here to rescue _Damon_."

"Maybe she is," he granted.

"That was a big mistake. _None_ of them are going to make it out of here alive," Bonnie intoned. "Not even Elena. There's no place for vampire sympathizers in this world, not if I can help it."

"Come with me, Bonnie. Help us rescue Damon and Stefan," Alaric pressed gently, taking a step towards her. "We'll all stop Katherine together."

Suddenly, he found that he couldn't move another inch. His body was frozen in place, and no matter how much he strained, he couldn't regain control. Bonnie's dark eyes were like pits of blackness, locked onto his face. He somehow knew that she was the one behind his sudden inflexibility.

"_You're_ a vampire sympathizer, Alaric," Bonnie murmured. "Stefan and Damon Salvatore were the ones who _killed_ my grandmother, the pair of living reasons I'm doing what I do today. _Why_ would I want to let them free, with absolutely _no_ punishment for their crimes?"

He tried to answer, to plead with her and tell her that none of that was the fault of Stefan _or_ Damon, but his lips wouldn't move.

She walked up beside him, effortlessly pulling a knife from his belt. She studied the blade for a moment, then suddenly brought it down. Hard. Alaric screamed inside his head at the explosion of pain in his hand. He couldn't look down to see what she had done, but as soon as the pain's aftershock cleared, he had a sinking feeling.

Bonnie carelessly dropped the knife and stepped back. "I'm sorry," she said with false sympathy, madness shining clearly from her face. "This is the way it had to be, I'm afraid. I didn't write the rules, but I obey them."

Alaric again tried to speak, but couldn't.

"Enjoy the afterlife," she said calmly. "I hope you find some sort of peace there." She raised a hand, and there was an excruciating pain in Alaric's chest. He struggled to draw air into his lungs. His vision was starting to go dark around the edges. He thought of Elena and Tyler, and hoped they would succeed. Then he fell into the blackness, and knew no more.

**

* * *

**

Reviews, anyone? I would be forever in your debt! :D


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Wow, so many reviews on the last chapter! Thanks, guys!

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Damon was growing weaker.

He could tell by the way his muscles were sluggish to respond to his mental commands, whenever he shifted position on the hard earthen floor. His thoughts weren't coming at their fastest, either.

All he could think about was Katherine crushing his ring, the ring that hadn't so much as left his finger since 1864. And now it was gone, turned to dust. The only consolation he could think of was that two rings still remained in Katherine's possession: hers, and Stefan's. If only there was some way to get both of them from her, then he and Stefan would be free to go.

Unfortunately, it didn't look like that scenario was going to be happening anytime soon.

He glanced furtively at his brother, who was staring blankly into the murky darkness. Some color was already coming back into his cheeks, a sign of Damon's sacrifice.

Damon licked his dry lips, then spoke. "So what's she planning, exactly?"

Stefan finally looked towards him, dark eyes drilling into Damon's face. "I don't know."

"Hasn't she ranted and raved about all her amazingly wonderful plans yet? She probably wants to keep us here as pets, and I have to say, I'm _not_ amused by _that_ thought."

He didn't answer, shrugging instead.

"Two hundred and fifty years, and it all ends in a dusty old basement," Damon declared glumly. "Alone except for _you_. And the rats. I _would_ drink rat blood, but I'm not _that_ desperate."

"Katherine's made sure this cell is perfectly secure," Stefan corrected him mildly. "If the rats could get in, I would have gotten out a long time ago."

Damon managed to gather enough strength to form an exaggerated grimace. "And here I thought for all these years that we were _related_. It got a little sketchy at times, true, but _this_ proves it."

Stefan's lips twisted into a small smile. "Thank you, Damon."

"For what? Or are you starting to get delusional?"

"For giving me your blood. I can feel the strength coming back into me as we speak."

"How lovely. You probably feel pretty much like I did getting out of the tomb the other day, eh? Like the blood was a sip of whiskey on a hot day." He grinned wickedly.

Looking aghast, Stefan said, "Did you _kill_ someone when you got out?"

Thinking of the man and his young son in the woods, whom he'd left perfectly intact and with their memories safely wiped, he smirked. "Of course I did. Who do you think I am, _you_?"

"Just when I think you're starting to become human…" Stefan heaved a sigh.

"Why would I want to do _that_? Talk about boring. Besides, let's not forget who forced this on me in the first place, brother." Damon paused for a moment to let this sink in. And even as his mind was sluggishly protesting that what he intended to say next was completely wrong for the situation, his lips were already forming the words. "Oh, and by the way…Elena kissed me a few times. I thought you should know."

Stefan stared at him. Damon was disappointed that his brother didn't look quite as shocked as he had hoped. "Did you kiss her back?"

"No, I kissed her mouth. We didn't _quite_ get as far as what you so _obviously_ have in mind."

"You know what I mean, Damon."

Slowly shifting his position and wincing in pain, Damon asked vibrantly, "You act like you already knew. Aren't we going to have a fight? I do love beating the crap out of you. No offense."

"Are you _ever_ going to change your ways?" Stefan asked impassively, without answering any of the questions.

"Hell, no. _One_ boring Salvatore is three too many."

It was quiet for a few minutes, and the two of them sat in silence and stared into the darkness. The throbbing of Damon's battered body had faded to dull aching, and he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

"How is…Elena doing?" Stefan asked quietly, something like wistfulness lingering in his voice.

Damon looked sharply at the other vampires, testing the air for any open hostility. "She's…older now," he replied, surprising even himself with his unexpected seriousness. "Still as beautiful as ever, though." He broke off as his voice caught. He seemed, strangely enough, to be having trouble breathing. Thoughts of her soft lips pressed against his filled his mind. He remembered her hand running through his hair, legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of her tantalizing blood. Her eyes meeting his as they stared silently at each other in the Gilbert kitchen.

"Are you…in love with her?"

"What?" he said sharply, shaking himself to clear his mind again. "Are you trying to become a _psychic_ now? Don't you remember that creepy old lady we went to back in…1860? Beads and gray hair and long dress?" He paused. "I'm trying to imagine you with the dress. It's a weird picture to say the least."

Stefan didn't seem at all affected by the rambling speech, maybe recognizing just how weak Damon was starting to feel. "I can tell by looking at you, when you talk about her. The usual bloodlust isn't on your face. It's love."

Damon didn't deny it, smiling weakly. "Does this mean we're going to duel with swords later?"

"My memories of Elena have dimmed considerably since I've been locked up in here," Stefan murmured, a quiet sadness obvious in his words. "I think it's the lack of blood that's done it. I can remember all the things we've done together, all the good times we've had, but they're like something out of a movie. No emotions."

Damon wasn't sure whether to be happy or depressed. "That's going to happen to me in a few years, give or take a decade," he realized forlornly.

Stefan shook his head. "Not if I can help it. Katherine keeping me in here is one thing, but she's _not_ going to get both of us."

"Now there's the brother I remember. All knight in shining armor meets physiatrist."

There came a shuffling sound from outside the cell door, and both Salvatores tensed. Stefan melted back against the shadows of the wall to keep himself hidden, while Damon stared forward with no fear. He wouldn't let Katherine see him sweat, no matter what happened.

Metal screamed, loudly protesting as it was pulled apart. Damon flinched, the sharp noise assaulted his sensitive ears, and leaned back against the wall. What was Katherine _doing_?

The cell door tore away from the wall, plaster and dust raining down. It was tossed away, leaving behind a gaping hole. Tyler Lockwood, eyes shining an animal yellow in the darkness, stood there.

"The werewolf," Damon said glibly. "_You've_ certainly been eating your Wheaties."

"Is that any way to greet your rescuers?" Tyler snapped.

"Damon!" A figure dressed all in black pushed past Tyler and raced to the startled vampire's side. "Oh my God, you're bleeding. Are you okay?" She dropped to her knees before him, reaching with a shaking hand to touch the side of his neck.

"It's just a flesh wound," he said, swallowing thickly in a frantic attempt to hide the overwhelming sense of relief that was currently surging through him. He hadn't thought he'd ever see Elena again, and now here she was, right in front of him.

"What did she _do_ to you?" she whispered, sounding horrified.

"Not much. I made sure to show her why not to mess with a vampire of _my_ status," he said. But they both knew Katherine was stronger than him, and that he hadn't been able to stop her.

Her hand moved from his neck to lightly stroke the side of his face. Damon couldn't have stopped himself from leaning into her touch if he'd tried. He let her hand hold his head up, closing his eyes.

Stefan cleared his throat from the corner, the raspy sound like leaves blowing along a sidewalk. Elena frowned, obviously confused, then her hand dropped from Damon's face like it was on fire. She turned towards Stefan. While Damon watched, heart sinking in his chest like a stone, her expression turned to shock, then amazement. "Oh my God. _Stefan_," she breathed, and the way she said it made Damon feel like he'd been punched in the gut. He looked away, unable to watch the spectacle for even a second longer.

_You thought she _cared_ about you? _an annoying voice inside his head taunted loudly. _It was all an act, until she could get Mr. Boring back. Now you'll automatically return to your position as badass-yet-annoying-older-brother-of-her-perfect-boyfriend._ Unfortunately, that wasn't what Damon wanted. He _wanted_ Elena to care about him, as he was stunned to realize.

"Elena." Stefan said the name reverently, like one might speak of God. He moved into a sitting position, grimacing in pain, but pulled away when she reached out to hug him. "Don't," he said awkwardly, suddenly not meeting her gaze. "Damon's blood helped, but not enough. I might lose control."

"Damon's blood…?" she parroted uncomprehendingly, brow furrowed deeply. She looked back to Damon, who squirmed as her eyes on him felt like sunlight after a thunderstorm. How embarrassing. "You let him drink your blood?" she demanded, expression softening to something unidentifiable. Frankly, Damon didn't care what she thought of him. He just wanted to get the hell out of there before Katherine came back. Or so he told himself.

"Yeah, what of it? Now is your new pet going to get us out of here or not?" he said harshly, self-proclaimed badass attitude ruined by his weak voice and shaking hands.

Tyler made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snarl, but moved into the cell nonetheless. He reached for Stefan, hauling him to his feet. "Don't be getting any ideas, Salvatore," he told the vampire callously.

Stefan shook his head. "Believe me, Tyler, no _sane_ vampire would drink a werewolf's blood."

"This coming from a guy who chases after squirrels and poor defenseless Bambis," Damon retorted, struggling to get to his feet. He was angry to find that his limbs wouldn't properly cooperate with his mental commands, and was close to exploding with fury when a hand gently brushed his cheek. He instantly went still, meeting Elena's stare.

"Damon, let me help," she said. He didn't protest as she dragged him to his feet, then let him lean against her. He held himself completely still as they moved with agonizing slowness towards the exit. He was very aware of where Elena's body touched his, and the scent of her blood. His gums ached, but he focused on making sure everything stayed where it was supposed to.

The four of them paused in the doorway.

"It's…really good to see you again, Stefan," Elena said quietly, like Tyler and Damon weren't even there.

Stefan nodded briskly. "You too…Elena."

Despite his best attempts at keeping his feelings locked securely inside, Damon ultimately failed. "Stop with the lovey-dovey faces and let's get moving before Katherine comes down here," he snapped.

"I hate to say this, but I agree with him," Tyler added.

Elena frowned, but didn't argue. She helped Damon out into the hallway outside the cell, while Tyler and Stefan closely followed. "Can you both make it up the stairs?" she asked apprehensively.

Damon was about to answer, but sensed the presence just ahead of them instead. Before he could voice a warning, several figures glided smoothly from the shadows. One, needless to say, was Katherine. Bonnie Bennett stood beside her. They were flanked by several newly-turned vampire minions.

There was a sudden movement at the corner of Damon's gaze, and he turned slightly to see Stefan standing on his own. Tyler had melted away into the shadows, presumably abandoning them to save himself. Damon suppressed a snarl of rage, concentrating on keeping his emotions in check.

"I should have known you'd try to get your _precious_ Salvatores free," Katherine said primly to Elena, though her eyes gleamed with madness. "But you shouldn't have even tried. Because _none_ of you are going to escape."

Elena's body tensed beside Damon's, but she said nothing.

Damon stared blankly at the row of adversaries, and felt his heart sinking. If only he were stronger, then he could try to make some kind of distraction. Draw everyone's attention until Elena and Stefan had safely escaped. But it was too late for such a plan of action now. They were all going to die, or rot inside that cell for all eternity. He already knew which option would be worse, and it sure as hell wasn't the one that involved a violent death.

"You're looking pleasantly well," he said. "I would have hoped you'd be a bit _under the weather_ this evening. Maybe even puking your guts out and convulsing." His expression hardened into a frown. "I still remember when you got a little taste of it in Stef's blood a while back. Happy times."

"Oh, because I drank your vervain-spiked blood?" She smiled prettily, seeming to ignore the reference to their tangled pasted together. "I purged it from my system _ages_ ago, of course. Very nasty process, but better than the alternative. One of the perks of being so old, I suppose."

"Katherine, please," Stefan said. "Don't do this. Just let us leave."

The mentioned's gaze shifted to the youngest Salvatore brother, and her lip curled with disgust. "You think that after all this time, spent so _carefully_ crafting Mystic Falls to my will, that I'd let the three of you escape and ruin everything? Think again, _darling_."

"It's good to know you think so _highly_ of us," Damon said sarcastically. "That's what all loving pet owners do: lock their pets in the basement."

Katherine ignored him, gesturing sharply towards her minions. "Hold them."

The vampires moved obediently forward, each grabbing the arms of a prisoner and pinning them behind the prisoner's back. Damon was violently wrenched away from Elena, hand ripping free from hers, and he barely suppressed a cry of pain as his arms were brutally pinned into place. The vampire holding him bared his teeth, and it was all Damon could do not to attack him, despite his all-consuming weariness from blood loss and the treatment of vervain.

"There's no need for any of this," Stefan pleaded. "Let Damon and Elena go, Katherine. I'll stay. I'll do whatever you want. Just let me go."

She paused, a musing expression on her face. "Is that so? You'd let me do…whatever I want?" She stepped forward, reaching out as though to stroke Stefan's face. At the last second, she clawed at his bare cheek with her fingernails, evoking a wince of pain from Stefan.

"Leave him alone!" Damon roared, adrenaline pumping through his body and giving him a sudden burst of strength. He struggled against the powerful grip of his captor, but to no avail.

Katherine looked surprised for a moment, a rare expression to see flitting across her face, then laughed coldly. "So protective of your brother, Damon. You always try to pretend that you're _so_ wicked." She shook her head, shrugging daintily. "I'll believe it when I see some _real_ evidence."

"You _will_, if your little plaything lets me go," he snarled. "You're officially on my bad list, Katherine, and that's _not_ a place you want to be."

She stepped forward, and cupped his face in her hand. Her touch rendered the exact opposite kind of emotions inside him that Elena's touch had. He tried to bite her wrist with his teeth, but they clicked together just inches from her skin.

She stared at him for several seconds, frighteningly expressionless, then slapped him. Damon's head snapped back on his neck, and felt for a few disorientating seconds like it might roll down and hit the floor. He tried to catch his breath as the world gradually stopped spinning, blinking several times to clear the tears of pain from his eyes.

"Don't, Katherine!" Stefan shouted, displaying the most passion he had since regaining most of his strength. "Leave him alone!"

"Why should I? He's so much _fun_ to torment. Ever since I met the two of you, I've always considered him to be the most…entertaining. Thinking I actually loved him, etcetera, etcetera, when I never did." She smirked reminiscently. "Those were the days. Such a _lovely_ threesome we made."

Damon struggled to keep his face free of emotion, her indifferent words ringing in his ears. Even after all this, even after she'd mercilessly tortured him and even drank his blood, he'd assumed that she cared for him at least the smallest bit. It was shocking to realize, after all these years, that she only cared as much for him as she would a cloth puppet. He tried to catch his breath and focus on the conversation.

"You're never going to get away with this," Elena said, out of breath.

"Why, because of all the little _allies_ you have around town?" Katherine asked placatingly, cocking her head to one side. "Alaric Saltzman is dead. Bonnie here killed him, and cut off that magic ring that _supposedly_ allows him to return to life after dying. I'm not entirely sure I believed such a fairy tale, but oh well. We certainly won't have to worry about its authenticity _now_, will we?"

Elena gasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Damon longed to take her in his arms and comfort her, but right then wouldn't exactly have been the best of times. "How _could_ you?" she whispered brokenly, words focused towards Bonnie.

The dark-skinned witch grandly lifted her chin. "I did what needed to be done, for the good of this town."

"Alaric was trying to _help_ Mystic Falls! Katherine's the one practically enslaving all of us! He would have _never_ tried to hurt you, Bonnie!" She was almost crying now.

"I work for Katherine, not Alaric Saltzman. I did what had to be done."

"Katherine, this isn't you," Stefan said. "You're not a killer."

"Oh, I'm not?" Katherine nodded to Bonnie, who moved forward with an expression of extreme concentration on her face. Her lips tightened…

…Then Damon felt a bolt of the most excruciating pain he'd ever experienced explode inside him. It was everywhere, tearing through his skin and ripping through every organ. It was a cyclone of pain. He couldn't think past the agony. He wasn't even sure if he had a brain anymore, or if it had been vaporized inside that red cloud of pain. He didn't even know who he was. Had he ever been anyone? Or had it always been only this pain, this horrible pain, for all eternity?

The next thing he was aware of was being on his knees on the dirt, gasping and choking as his lungs tried to remember how to draw in oxygen. Sweat literally poured down his face, burning his eyes and wetting his hair. His head was whirling, and it was all he could do not to throw up.

"Stop it! Stop! Leave him alone, you _bitch_!" Elena was screaming, sounding angrier than Damon had ever heard her.

"Damon?" Stefan almost seemed panicked, ignoring Elena's shrieks.

He tried to answer, he really did. But his whole body was throbbing, and his lips couldn't have formed coherent words if he'd tried. _Elena,_ he thought weakly, trying to meet her gaze but failing immensely. Then he was falling, head slamming to the ground hard enough to make heat and light explode across his vision.

Then…nothing.

**

* * *

**

Poor guy. I do love torturing him. :) Any thoughts on these newest developments? What do you think Katherine's going to do next? And how do you think Bonnie will finally get what's coming to her? Just click that button, right down there, and share anything you feel like saying!


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Woo-hoo, new chapter! Enjoy this especially long update, my loyal reviewers! :D

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Richard Lockwood was pacing inside his office. He had long since loosened the tie around his neck, and unbuttoned his elegant cufflinks. Hands clasped together behind him, he had become very familiar with the outer perimeters of his office.

The wolf inside him was awake, and wanted to be set free on all his enemies. But he didn't particularly want to lose his human skin at the moment, allowing animal instinct to have control over his actions. He was still waiting for word from either Katherine or Bonnie, telling him how the snatch-and-grab of Damon Salvatore had gone. He'd been waiting for hours. And he hated being kept waiting.

Snarling under his breath, the mayor strode to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed reception, instead of the performing the logical action and opening the door at the other end of his office. "Diane, have there been any calls for me?" he snapped.

"_No, sir, or I would have immediately routed them through to your phone,"_ the blonde receptionist said patiently.

"Keep that attitude up, and you'll be kicked out on your ass with no job, faster than you can tell me my wife is calling!" he roared, slamming the phone back into its cradle so hard that the plastic creaked.

Using a practiced technique, he inserted two fingers into the knot of his tie and jerked it open a little more. Slamming both palms down on his desk, he took rapid, deep breaths, chest heaving with the effort. His lips pulled back to reveal glistening fangs, and the pain in his eyes meant that both pupils had dilated. Grimacing in pain and squeezing his eyes firmly shut, he used every ounce of control he'd gained over the years to force the Change back. He could barely manage; the wolf inside him wanted out, wanted to taste the dripping meat and blood of a fresh kill, and soon.

There came a crash from just outside the outer door, followed by a muffled shriek, and Lockwood tensed. Hands still flat against the surface of his desk, he turned his head towards the door. Eyes narrowing with suspicion, he waited.

Seconds later, the doorknob slowly turned. A slight man with blonde hair, wearing a faultless black suit, stepped casually into the room. "Hi, there. Mayor Lockwood, yes? Your lovely receptionist wasn't very helpful, so I do hope I've got the right office."

Lockwood turned to face the newcomer, hands clenched into fists and monstrous features contorted into a snarl of fury. "Who the hell are you?"

"'Who the hell are you'? I mean, really. That's such an _unoriginal_ thing to say, Mayor Lockwood. Almost as bad as 'What the hell are you doing here?'"

Fur begun to sprout from Lockwood's face and arms. His ears sharpened to points, already covered in gray hair. His clothes started to rip and tear as his body rearranged itself. He snarled, lips now rendered incapable of forming coherent human words, wet strands of saliva dripping to land on his designer shoes.

The stranger made an exaggerated expression of revulsion. "My God, _someone_ sure got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he said conversationally, raising both eyebrows.

The mayor's shoes burst open, large and clawed feet protruding from the ruined leather. His back was hunched over now, long stripes of hair continuing to ripple over his face and arms. Sharpened talons slowly inched free from where his human fingernails had previously been.

"No offense, but this is getting boring. See one werewolf Change, seen 'em all," the stranger said. He walked briskly forward, and something silver slid from his sleeve. "Say goodnight, Mayor Lockwood." The knife slid easily through both the mayor's expensive suit and his flesh. His half-animal, half-human features formed an expression of surprise and pain, a whimper escaping from his lips.

The stranger pulled the knife out with a wet slicking sound, idly wiping the gleaming blood against one of the curtains in the window. He watched as Lockwood swayed, then toppled to the floor with a thud. The light in his inhuman eyes almost immediately went out, leaving Lockwood trapped forever between his two forms, even in death.

John Gilbert sniffed indifferently, then slid the knife into his belt. "Better be off. Lots of work to finish up," he told the bleeding corpse. "You know how women are, always forcing you to do their dirty work. Same with Isobel. Such an uptight woman, unfortunately." He shook his head, striding calmly towards the door. "Things are going to be returning to normal here in Mystic Falls, for Elena's sake. No daughter of mine is going to live around vampires and werewolves, not if _I _have anything to say about it."

He closed the office door gently behind him.

* * *

Darkness swam around him, in disorientating waves. It was broken by nothing, not even stars, except for the faint gray light that seemed to be coming straight at him. He swam through the blackness, towards the light, wondering how he could see when he didn't have eyes. He didn't even have a body, just some sort of atomless existence. There was no sense of up or down.

Or was all this some kind of hallucination? He couldn't be sure. He thought he had been a person once, since he remembered several things that seemed too _defined_ to be imagined. A dark-haired girl, violently ending his life. The worst pain he'd ever known.

Now that he thought of such things, this supposed reality around him seemed pale and colorless. Perhaps it really _did_ exist only in his own mind, with him trapped inside it. Determination surged through him as he continued to approach the gray light. He would get there, and he would return to the bright, bold, explosive, colorful, expressive, light, amazing, wonderful reality that was so very _real _to him now.

As he firmly told himself this, leaving no room for argument, he reached his destination. The brilliant gray light engulfed him, and wondrous _feeling_ exploded through him. He had a body again! Something scratchy pressed against what was undeniably _his_ cheek, and he could feel his legs twisted awkwardly. A small point of heat burned against his chest.

Alaric sat up with a gasp, choking when too much oxygen flooded his lungs too quickly. As soon as his vision had sharpened, fogginess fading, he looked quickly down at his hand. All his fingers had been magically grown back, though four fleshy stumps and a silver ring lay in a pool of congealing blood beside him.

Still taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself down, Alaric reached under his shirt and held up the thin chain that had been positioned carefully there. On the end of it dangled his real ring, which he had cleverly thought to hide there before entering the mansion. Luckily, Bonnie had believed the convincing decoy to be the real thing, and now thought he was dead. No one would expect him to come back, when his supposed immortality token had been brutally chopped off.

Dropping the ring back under his shirt and rubbing his freshly-regenerated hand, Alaric staggered to his feet. A burst of dizziness made him stumble sideways, nearly tripping over one of the vampires he'd killed earlier. He instead crashed into the wall, grabbing at it to keep from falling.

"I guess you were right when you told me you couldn't die. That Katherine chick obviously didn't know what she was talking about."

Alaric whirled towards the voice, nearly passing out again from the sudden movement. "Tyler," he realized, immensely relieved to see the figure standing just inside the doorway.

"Here, let me help." Tyler stepped around the stumps that had been Alaric's fingers, grimacing with disgust, and slung one of Alaric's arms over his shoulder, supporting much of the other man's weight. "I hope you heal up fast, Ric, because I need your help."

The history-teacher-turned-vampire-hunter frowned, trying to work something out past his pounding headache. "Wait a minute. Why aren't you with Elena?"

Tyler winced theatrically. "That's the thing. Katherine and Bonnie Bennett are holding Elena and the Salvatore brothers captive."

Alaric's eyes widened, and he shrugged Tyler away, determined to stand on his own. Fighting his dizziness, he reached into his belt and pulled out another vervain-treated stake, one of many in his personal collection. "We'd better go rescue them," he said, offering the stake to Tyler.

Tyler shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I've got something else in mind…"

* * *

When Damon woke up, he realized that he'd never felt worse than he did right at that moment. Every part of his body was figuratively on fire, and he felt strangely lightheaded through the excruciating pain. He could barely hold his eyes open, much less lift his head from where it drooped towards his chest.

"Damon! Oh, thank God!" Elena's voice.

Swallowing thickly and listening to the alarming wheezing rattling from his chest, apparently passing for breathing, he forced his eyes open. He was surrounded by darkness. The faint breeze that caressed his battered skin, along with the chirping of various night creatures some distance away, told him that he was outside. A slow swivel of his head showed that he was tied hand-and-foot on the front lawn of the mansion. Elena and Stefan were just beside him, likewise bound.

"This is somewhat embarrassing to ask, since I have an _excellent_ memory, but what happened?" he slurred, having some trouble making his words come out properly.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Elena said tearfully, instead of answering the question. "When Bonnie did that to you, you passed out and wouldn't wake up. Katherine…kicked you several times, and we…"

Damon grimaced. "So _that's_ why three of my ribs are cracked," he mused weakly. He looked away when Elena's expression crumpled in horror and sympathy for his pain, staring idly towards the starless sky above. There was something odd about it. It wasn't completely black; gray clouds were forming across the horizon. It was painfully obvious that morning was on its way. And as a vampire who burned in the sun, he was very familiar with signs that the night was beginning to end.

He turned to Stefan, fighting to keep a wince from showing on his face. "Okay, brother. What the hell is Katherine up to?"

Stefan bowed his head, eyes shadowed. "It's almost sunrise," he said.

"I noticed that, yes. _Why_ are we outside?" Damon demanded, though he couldn't manage to muster much anger into his voice.

"She's going to let us burn."

Even though he had already had his suspicions, the revelation caused Damon's heart to lurch with horror. Vampires couldn't even have the faintest exposure to sunlight, no matter how young or old they were. The first rays caused a vampire's skin to blister and boil, flesh visibly melting like glue inside an oven. Then, as the sun pounded down harder and harder on the unfortunate vampire, their entire body burned, skin dripping away from their liquefying skeletons and eyes literally exploding from the extreme temperature. It was reportedly the worst way in all the world to die.

And now Damon was going to experience it firsthand.

"I can't believe this is happening," Elena cried. "There's got to be some way to stop her!" She glanced desperately back and forth between the two brothers, as though she could save them with mere willpower. If only such a feat was actually possible.

Damon experimentally moved his wrists, and felt cold steel biting into his skin. "I could have broken out of these on any other day," he said with a one-shouldered shrug. "But not _this_ day. Unfortunately."

"I've been working at mine," Stefan said gravely. "But I need some more time."

"We have grass, we have trees, we have a rising sun, and we have Elena, but no more _time_," Damon noted. "Strange thing for an immortal to say."

"We'll get out of this. Tyler will do something," Elena said, determination heavy in her voice. Her lips were tight.

"What should my last words be?" Damon mused, grimacing as he twisted his battered wrists this way and that. They were already bleeding, the sour smell of blood wafting in the faint breeze. "Does 'I'd say that we'd meet again, Kathy, but I hope not to see you in hell' sound too pompous? Or how about, 'You'd be more beautiful if your flesh was melting from your bones, Katherine.' Anyone?"

A sob slipped from Elena's lips, and Damon looked at her with surprise. "I don't want you to die," she wept, a tear leaking from one eye and slowly slipping down her cheek. Damon longed to catch it on a finger and brush a soft kiss along her temple, soothing her. He made sure not to look at Stefan as such traitorous thoughts flitted through his brain.

Stefan cleared his throat. "Elena–" he began.

"It's past our time," Damon interrupted, with uncharacteristic seriousness. He had picked up on the fact that his strained banter was obviously making Elena feel even worse about the whole situation. "Stefan and I shouldn't even be alive today, Elena. Maybe this was meant to be." Not that he believed such crap, but if it made Elena feel better…

"No, Damon! Don't say that!" She was crying even harder now. Stefan shifted awkwardly on the grass beside her.

Damon glanced towards the sky. The gray streaks were now even more prominent against the blackness. "Are you going to miss our insolent yet amusing back-and-forth banter?" he asked. "We've definitely had some good times since I came back, that's granted. Remember that time in your bedroom…?" He leered at her, expecting her to shoot a look at Stefan then blush with horror and embarrassment. He couldn't have been more shocked when she blurted out,

"I love you, Damon, and I _don't want you to die_!"

His shoulders slumped as he stared at her. She was perfectly serious, from the earnest expression on her pretty face to the tears sparkling in her dark eyes. Stefan had gone still beside her, but he looked resigned. He could obviously tell that the chemistry between Damon and Elena wasn't just sparks: it was for real.

For once in his unnaturally long existence, Damon Salvatore didn't know what to say. He swallowed hard, stopping his attempts to escape from the steel bonds encasing his bloodied wrists, and tried to think of something to say. Something that was both right for the situation, and that conveyed his own feelings for her. He'd never been a poet, that was for sure, but he felt the growing need to tell her how he felt, how he'd felt ever since their first kiss. "Elena…" he whispered, voice cracking as he tried to force the words out. "I–"

She choked on a sob, and turned her face away from him. "Don't, Damon. You're making it _worse_," she croaked, voice sounding muffled.

He took a deep breath, grimacing in agony as the motion assaulted his cracked ribs. He looked up to Stefan again, who stared silently back at him. His face, though frozen in time, seemed to have aged a hundred extra years. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. He'd seen how his brother and Elena had been together five years ago, clinging to each other and sleeping (along with other things) in the same bed most nights. The last thing he'd ever intended to do was come between them. But that was exactly what he had done.

Elena suddenly threw her neck back, slinging hair back over her shoulders. A strange look was on her face, one that Damon had never seen before. "I want both of you to drink from me," she said in a hard voice. "Drink as much as you can. Even if you have to kill me to do it, get your strength back and get away from here."

"No," Stefan said immediately, while Damon was already shaking his head.

"No way in _hell_ am I doing that to you, Elena," he snapped.

She turned her head and stared him straight in the eye. "If neither of you can get free, then I'll die anyway," she said. "Katherine will kill me in front of you, and in the most painful way possible." She paused, and swallowed hard. "Do it for me. _Please_."

Damon looked to his brother, who looked back at them. Gazes locked, they communicated silently and without words, something they hadn't done in years. Both could see that the other didn't want to kill Elena, but wanted to save her from Katherine. Both of them needed blood, and fast. This was the only way.

"We'll only take as much as is safe," Stefan said, glancing quickly towards the mansion. There was still no sign of Katherine or her cronies. Were they really so cocky as to leave them alone like this?

"Whatever, I don't care," Elena said, eyes still boring into Damon's. "Just do it."

Gritting his teeth together, Damon stared dragging his body across the grass, closing the small distance between himself and Elena. Stefan did the same, though with considerably less effort. They both reached her at the same time, closing the gap, one on either side of her. Elena shook her hair back again, giving an unobstructed view of her neck.

Damon felt his eyes dilate with longing, and saliva flooded his mouth. He was breathless with need. He found himself unconsciously leaning to get a better look, inhaling the warm, sweet scent of her blood. His fangs were already lengthening, and his eyes were cracked and reddened. His body was demanding that he take what he needed _now_. He literally couldn't wait any longer. Looking at Stefan once more, seeing that his face had also changed, he nodded.

They both struck with inhuman speed, biting down on either side of Elena's neck.

Damon's fangs sank into the soft flesh of Elena's throat, as a moan vibrated through her vocal chords. Even though one part of him felt a pang of discomfort at the thought of causing her pain, the savage animal side of him wanted her to scream and thrash and fight to get away. He ignored both inner voices and concentrated on the blood.

It flowed into his mouth, rich and warm and completely _delicious_. He'd never tasted anything better. He pressed his fangs even harder into her flesh, caught up in the moment. It was exhilarating, taking her blood while Stefan did the same at the exact same moment. It was a vampire's ultimate threesome, and gave him quite the heady feeling.

A faint voice was calling him, no more than the annoying buzzing sound of a fly. It took all of Damon's self control to focus on the voice, and force his ears to listen. He suddenly realized that Stefan was calling his name. Apparently _his_ need had already been sated.

Damon nestled his face harder still into the warm cocoon of flesh, still sucking. Stefan was such a boring old coot; why stop drinking when there was even a single drop of this steady flow remaining?

Then he remembered just who he was drinking from, and violently wrenched himself away.

Elena swayed, paler than usual, blood dripping from either side of her neck. The flood of tears had dried on her face. She looked to Damon and smiled weakly. "Hi," she murmured, blinking a few times.

Blood was smeared across his lips, which he hastily licked away. "Sorry," he muttered, averting her eyes from the deep wounds on her neck. He could already feel some strength radiating through his body. Not enough, but it would have to do.

"'S okay," she said.

"Thank you, Elena," Stefan said gravely. His lips showed no trace of blood; even when in a feeding frenzy, he was still apparently a neater eater than Damon.

A door slammed. Elena quickly moved so that her hair effectively covered the incriminating wounds on her neck. Katherine was striding across the grass towards them, twin rings sparkling on her right hand. Five vampire minions followed her closely, and Bonnie trailed along behind. She seemed unconcerned by the sight of her former best friend tied up in the middle of the lawn.

"Katherine," Stefan said.

"_Don't_ try to change my mind, Stefan darling," she responded in a bored tone. "I've made up my mind that I want all three of you dead. I'm afraid there's really nothing you can do or say to make me think any differently. You see, I've been dwelling on thoughts of the illusive Salvatore brothers lying dead at my feet for many years now. I think it's time that little fantasy bears fruit, don't you?"

"Go to hell," Damon said calmly. Elena's blood was circulating through him, already giving him renewed strength. He didn't even flinch when Katherine turned a scathing glare on him.

"Actually, _Damon_," she snapped icily, "that's where _you'll_ be going, as soon as morning comes." She looked up to the sky, which was lightening even faster now. It was a horrible sight. "And believe me, I'll be sure to give you some _memories_ to take along with you."

With that, she reached for Elena.

**

* * *

**

Who's seen the new teaser trailer for season 2? Looks awesome, doesn't it? :D :D :D


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks SOOO much for the reviews, everyone! I think you'll really enjoy this chapter. Towards the end, especially… :D

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Elena gasped as Katherine jerked her up into the air by the front of her shirt, the vampire's face cracking and changing. Katherine inhaled deeply, then her brow furrowed. She jerked Elena's hair back from her neck. "Someone's been _very_ naughty," she noted, carefully studying the twin marks on both sides of Elena's throat. "Shame on you two!"

"Let her go!" Damon roared, struggling with a vengeance against the steel cuffs binding his wrists. He hardly even felt the pain of them biting into his wrists, because he had a _very_ bad idea about what Katherine was going to do next.

"Katherine, please," Stefan said. "Just let Elena go free. Damon and I are the ones you want."

The wrathful vampire curled her lip with disgust. "Do you even know me at all, Stefan, after _so_ many years? I _do_ want to kill your precious Elena. I have for several years now. But I've bided my time, and waited. Now everything's smoothly falling into place."

"Let her go, or I'll kill you myself!" Damon continued to strain, fighting to break free, but to no avail. He could only watch helplessly at Elena dangled in midair, struggling with all that remained of her dwindling strength.

Katherine smiled suggestively. "Promises, promises. Watch and weep, boys." And then she sank her elongated fangs into Elena's bare flesh. Elena screamed, body twisting and thrashing as she tried to get away from Katherine's unyielding grip.

"Elena!" Damon felt his lungs had seize up, leaving him breathless. Watching Elena being drained before him was the ultimate torture, and he could barely stand it. Especially after what she had confessed about her feelings towards him minutes ago. "Stefan, we've got to _do_ something!"

"I know, Damon; I'm _trying_," Stefan said through gritted teeth. His arm muscles visibly bunched as he strained against the metal securing his wrists.

"You'll never stop her," Bonnie said in a cool voice, smiling vaguely from where she stood behind Katherine. She didn't seem to notice the five hungry vampire minions eyeing her. "Katherine is the most powerful of all vampires; more powerful than _either_ of you. Once both of you and _Elena_ are dead…" She paused, shrugging carelessly. "Well, let's just say that my work will be nearly completed. Grams' death will be avenged, once and for all."

Stefan ceased his struggles. "Bonnie, we didn't kill your grandmother!" he cried, clearly aghast. "The spell over the tomb was too much of a strain on her heart; _that's_ the reason she died!"

"Shut up," Bonnie snapped, eyes full of fire. "You're lying, you stinking parasite."

Elena moaned in pain. Her body jerked only slightly now; she was barely conscious. Katherine made greedy sucking sounds as she tore further into Elena's skin with her teeth, drinking deeply.

Damon's whole world was being torn apart as he could do nothing but watch. His wrists were soaked in fresh blood, and the metal had barely bent. Watching Elena die was like swallowing broken glass. He felt like he was dying along with her. And a tiny piece of his heart was.

Katherine, still gripping a fist full of Elena's shirt, lifted her head. Her lower face was stained with blood that looked almost black, and so were her teeth. "Intoxicating," she murmured. "Oh, and look at _that_. The sun's nearly up. I _do_ believe it's time for the grand finale."

A howl rang out across the lawn.

Everyone froze, glancing towards the sound, even Katherine. "What the hell…?" Damon muttered, brow creasing.

The front door of the mansion exploded open as something hit it from the inside. A dark, hairy shape sailed out and landed on four paws against the pristine grass. It was the size of a large dog, covered in fine black hair and with a pair of shining yellow eyes. Sharpened teeth were revealed as the creature pulled back its lips and snarled wetly.

Damon's brow smoothed out in comprehension. "Lockwood, what took you so long?" he shouted.

"Lockwood?" Stefan repeated with confusion.

"_Lockwood_?" Katherine snarled.

Tyler the wolf launched his body over the ground, right towards the gathering of vampires. The five minions reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. He tore into them with teeth and claws, displaying a vicious savagery that was breathtaking to behold. Bonnie got out of the way before she could become one of his victims, staring with horror and disbelief at the single shape tearing apart her fanged collaborators.

"What, Katherine never told you about her guard dogs?" Damon leered, hoping to keep everyone's attention focused away from the barely conscious Elena.

"Apparently not!"

Bonnie stared as Alaric jogged over to join them, standing a safe distance away and brandishing a stake in each hand. "I _killed_ you," she said, for the first time starting to look flustered.

He shrugged, offering an insolent smirk. "You missed."

"I won't stand for this!" Katherine shrieked, the sound animalistic as she rapidly lost her self-control. She had one hand around Elena's throat, which was bleeding anew. "I'll snap her neck!"

Tyler immediately stopped his attack, leaving only three vampires standing. One kicked him in the side, knocking him over, and he yelped.

Damon's fists were clenched, and his muscles were straining to the extent of his ability. Even though the pain was excruciating, he didn't care. He'd amputate his own wrists if that was what it took to rescue Elena.

"Katherine, stay calm," Stefan said soothingly. "No one else has to get hurt. We can talk this out peacefully."

"I don't think so, _Stefan_," she snarled, hand visibly tightening. Elena choked, gasping for air. "I've been waiting too long for this to happen to give up now. And I'm _not_ letting you take my town away from me!"

"This isn't _your_ town, Katherine," Stefan said. "It belongs to all the people who live here. Just let Elena go, and we'll make some sort of deal. You can keep half the town, and the mansion. As long as you don't kill anyone else, we'll let you do whatever you want."

Damon stared at Stefan, wondering if he had finally gone around the bend. Katherine liked playing games without set rules in place; she was never going to agree to anything Stefan so reasonably asked of her.

For several seconds, Katherine looked like she was actually thinking about the proposal. Her hand loosened around Elena's throat, and Elena's body jerked with relief as air was allowed to her aching lungs again.

Then Katherine smiled coldly, pure evil resonating in her eyes. "Thanks, but no thanks. If I'm going down, then all of you are going with me!" With that, she jerked the sharp fingernails of her free hand over her opposite wrist, drawing blood. Then she pressed the wound of Elena's lips, forcing her to drink. Elena choked and struggled, clawing wildly at Katherine's arm.

"Katherine, what are you _doing_?" Stefan shouted desperately. "It doesn't have to be this way!"

"Oh, but it does, Stefan. It does," she said pleasantly.

Chaos broke out again. Tyler the wolf had recovered from the blow he'd been issued, and attacked the remaining minions with a fresh bolt of energy. Alaric rushed around the mêlée, stakes held high, and headed towards the Salvatores. He had almost reached them, intent on rescue, when Bonnie stepped into his path. "Bonnie, get out of the way!" he shouted. "She's going to kill Elena!"

"A causality of war, I'm afraid. Elena is a vampire sympathizer, just like you are," Bonnie said calmly, ignoring the fierce battle all around her. "Now, that was a clever little trick you pulled back inside the mansion, hiding your ring around her neck instead of on your hand," she continued, pointing to the silver chain visible at Alaric's throat. "But I know your tricks now. This time, I won't miss."

For the second time that night, Alaric found himself frozen. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He could only watch as Bonnie walked calmly towards him, madness glittering in her eyes as she held him completely still with her mind. She reached for his stakes, preparing to detach his head and leave him _permanently_ dead.

Damon's struggles finally paid off. The metal band around his wrists finally broke apart with a screeching sound, though his ankles remained firmly bound. He threw himself across the grass, arms outstretched, and grabbed Bonnie's ankles. He effectively jerked her to a stop before she could reach her target, holding on with all his strength.

Bonnie released Alaric, who collapsed with relief. She slowly turned to look down at Damon, regarding him with the disgust one might give a bug under her shoe. "You can't stop me, Damon," she said frigidly. "I have to do this, for my Grams. I have to stop the vampires."

"We didn't kill your grandmother!" Damon shouted, still gripping her ankles. He tried to keep his vacillating attention on Bonnie, but all he could hear was the sound of Elena gasping and trying to get away from Katherine. "If you want to fight someone, fight that bitch trying to kill Elena!"

Bonnie slowly shook her head. "Just like any murderer, you denounce your crimes, trying to blame them on someone else. Katherine didn't kill my Grams, Damon. _You_ did. And you're going to _pay_ for it." Her eyes shone brightly as she stared down at him, getting ready to induce another burst of agony inside him.

Damon tensed involuntarily; he could remember the excruciating agony he'd felt before all too well, pain so terrible that he'd actually lost consciousness. _I'm sorry, Elena,_ he thought. _And you too, Stefan. This wasn't exactly the stunning rescue I intended…_

"_Goodbye_, Damon," Bonnie said, eyes flashing.

And then the pointed end of a stake pierced her chest, tearing through flesh and cloth alike. She choked, a tiny trickle of blood leaking from her lips, eyes wide. She looked down at the stake, forgetting all about Damon as he lay at her feet. Then she fell to the grass with a thud, life visibly draining out of her. Bonnie Bennett was dead.

Alaric, still holding his second stake, stared with horror at Bonnie's body. "She's…she's dead," he whispered, seeming to be in shock. "I _killed_ her. She used to be a student in my _class_."

"You can be Mr. Angst later, Ric. Get me out of this thing!" Damon exclaimed, gesturing to the thick band of metal around his ankles. Alaric shook himself, then quickly bent to the ground, using his stake to pry Damon's ankles apart. "Lockwood!" Damon yelled, pointing towards Katherine and Elena.

Tyler had just finished up with the last of the minions. Now he turned to look where Damon had pointed, and growled ominously. He threw himself at Katherine's unprotected back. She must have heard him coming, because she started to turn around. But she wasn't fast enough. Tyler slammed into her, teeth and claws tearing into the back of her shirt.

Katherine screamed with rage, turning on Tyler and forgetting all about Elena. Damon watched, holding his breath, as Elena fell towards the ground, blood smeared all over her lower face. She grabbed at one of Katherine's hands, as though she was trying to pull her immortal twin down after her. She didn't succeed, and hit the grass while Katherine remained standing.

Alaric finished with Damon's ankles and rushed to help Stefan. Damon quickly flipped to his feet and rushed towards Katherine. She was angrily attempting to bat Tyler away, hands flailing, but Tyler refused to be deterred. He continued to leap at her, apparently trying to get at her throat.

"Damon," Elena gasped out as he passed, struggling to sit up.

But he forced himself to ignore her, coming to a stop before Katherine. She didn't notice him for several seconds, busy batting Tyler away, but a nod from Damon ceased the werewolf's attacks. "So, _Kathy_," he said casually, folding his arms and hiding a smirk at how breathless and disheveled she looked. "Give up yet?"

She was still breathing heavily through her nose, glaring at Tyler. Seeing that he had halted his assault, she angrily turned to Damon. "This isn't over," she growled frighteningly. Her face cracked, showing just how furious she really was.

Damon smiled charmingly at her. "_Sure_ it isn't. Bye, now!" He made a big show of waving at her. He glanced at the mangled bodies littering the ground around them. "Stef and I have got a big mess to clean up after this little _party_, so you'd best be off. I can't _stand_ guests who overstay their welcome." He winked, so fast that anyone seeing the gesture might think they'd imagined it.

Fists clenched, Katherine snarled. Then she turned and raced away without another word. The last thing Damon saw of her was the torn back of her shirt. Then he sprang towards Elena, kneeling beside her. "Elena?" he asked quickly, alarmed at all the blood that covered her. "You okay?"

Elena nodded slowly, and he felt a surge of relief. She swallowed hard and managed to smile weakly at him. "Does this mean we won?" she croaked.

"Yeah, I think it does." Damon leaned closer to her, and used the jagged sleeve of his shirt to wipe most of the blood off her face. "What do you know. There's a puny little _human_ under all this," he quipped, flashing a disarming grin in hopes of cheering her up somewhat. To his surprise, she barely even looked irritated.

"Are you all right, Elena?"

Damon quickly got to his feet as Stefan and Alaric approached, feeling strangely guilty.

Elena accepted a hand from Alaric and staggered into an upright position. "Y–yeah, I think so," she managed. She stumbled, nearly falling over again, and smiled gratefully at Stefan when he put his arm around her waist. Damon clenched his hands into tight fists. "Here, Stefan, I think this is yours," she added, holding up something small and silver. It shone in the faint gray light.

"My ring," Stefan said. He sounded shocked, probably since he hadn't laid eyes on it off Katherine's finger in five long years. He took it reverently from Elena and slipped it onto his hand, staring at it with wide eyes.

"We need to be getting back," Damon spoke up, unable to keep the icy anger from his voice. A figurative stake was being driven through his heart; he _hated_ seeing them together.

Elena nodded, frowning. "Yeah, we do…" she murmured, staring at him strangely.

There came a muffled whine from just behind them, and everyone turned just in time to see Tyler Change back to his human form. He lay crumpled on the ground, panting, with his clothing hanging in ragged scraps from his frame.

"Tyler, you okay?" Alaric asked, shrugging out of his black jacket. He helped the young werewolf to his feet, then let him slip into the jacket.

"Not doing _that_ again anytime soon," Tyler muttered breathlessly.

"Thank you so much, Tyler," Elena gushed. "You saved our lives."

"I know, but I'm trying to be modest about the whole thing," he joked.

"Come back with us; we'll get everyone bandaged up," Elena offered generously, even though _she_ was actually the one who needed it the most.

Tyler shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks." He glanced at Alaric. "If things…went as planned, then my mom's going to need some comforting," he said quietly. It was obvious that he was thinking of the fact that his father was by now quite possibly deceased.

"I'll drive you back," Alaric said grimly.

Elena, despite the fact that she continued to bleed heavily, still wasn't finished. "Someone needs to deal with all these bodies, right?"

"They'll be taken care of as soon as the sun comes up," Damon muttered, stubbornly not meeting her gaze. "And so will I, in a few more minutes."

"Oh!" Her eyes were wide, though a little hazy. "Come on, let's get back to the house before the sun comes up."

Stefan nodded, starting to guide her forward. "Good idea."

She paused, frowning as she thought about something. "Wait a minute. What about Bonnie? We can't just leave her roaming around; who knows what she'll do!"

"Bonnie's not going to be a problem anymore, Elena," Stefan told her gently.

Confusion was evident on Elena's face, and all the blood she was losing wasn't helping much. "Do you mean…?"

"Let's go." Stefan firmly steered her away before she could glimpse Bonnie's body lying among all the vampires.

Alaric and Tyler bid their farewells and started back to where they'd left the car. Damon nodded silently to them, surveyed the many crumpled bodies for a few seconds, then started after Stefan and Elena.

His heart was heavy at seeing them together, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.

* * *

When the trio reached the Gilbert home, the sun was visible on the horizon. It was a blazing ball of flames, painting the sky with reds and oranges and pinks. Damon threw open the door and ran inside, just in time. His skin was actually sizzling as he leaned heavily against the interior wall, gasping.

Elena and Stefan hurried in after him, closing the door and blocking out the harmful rays of ultraviolet light. "Damon, are you okay?" Elena gasped, taking a step towards him. She stumbled and nearly fell, Stefan grabbing her arm just in time.

Damon looked impassively at the scorch mark on his bare arm. "Fine," he said icily.

She blinked at him several times. "Damon–"

"I thought we both agreed on a curfew, Elena. You obviously missed yours." Jeremy appeared from the kitchen, holding a paper bag.

"Oh, Jere!" Elena quickly tried to brush hair over her bloody throat. Her shaking hands betrayed just how weak she really was, despite her other actions. "Um, hi! You remember Stefan, right?"

Jeremy didn't answer, instead handing Damon the bag. Damon took it and looked inside. Two blood bags, cold from being inside the refrigerator, were placed neatly on the bottom of the bag. He reached in and held one up for the others to see. "Smells like chicken blood," he said. "Revolting. Didn't anyone ever teach you to buy only the best? Say, of the _human_ variety?"

Elena gaped at her brother. "Jeremy, how did you–"

"I'm not stupid," he insisted, crossing his arms. "I knew where you and the others were going last night, so I got this stuff ready. Just in case. You can thank me later."

She obviously didn't know what to say. "But you–"

"Thank you," Stefan interrupting, nodding gravely.

Jeremy shrugged. "No problem." He glanced back and forth between the three of them. "Well, I'll just leave you alone, then." He started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Elena blurted, to cover the fact that she didn't really know what to say.

"Out," he said casually, opening the door. Damon hissed and stepped away from the beams of light that burned his arm again. And then Jeremy was gone.

"Here." Damon had put the plastic bag of blood in with its double, and tossed both to Stefan. He caught them just before they hit the carpet, somehow managing to hold Elena up, too.

Stefan looked into the bag, then frowned. "Don't you…?"

"Naw, I'm fine. Too much chicken blood ruins the _teeth_."

Stefan swallowed hard, not seeming to mind the subtle insult. His gaze was focused on the bag of blood. "Would you mind bandaging Elena's neck?" he asked in an eerily quiet voice. He looked like he was seconds away from losing control and tearing into it.

Damon ground his teeth together, but nodded curtly. He turned and strode towards the downstairs bathroom, leaving Elena to limp after him. He smelled blood as Stefan ripped open the plastic bags. Scowling heavily, he jerked open the cabinet and riffled around inside, looking for bandages.

Elena entered the room, breathing heavily as she tried to stand on her own. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and leaned against the cool porcelain, closing her eyes.

Finding a package of Band-Aids, he brutally tore it open and poured several into his hand. He impatiently brushed Elena's hair, rigid in some places with dried blood, out of the way and started sticking Band-Aids at random all over her wounds.

Her eyes popped open. "Damon, what the hell are you _doing_?" she demanded, suddenly sounding more angry than injured.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She pushed him away with one hand and went to the sink. After looking at her bloody reflection in the mirror for a few seconds, she poured water into her cupped hands and splashed it against her throat. She bit down hard on her lip; the water quite obviously hurt. A lot.

It was the quiet whimpering sound she made that really drew Damon's attention. She was evidently fighting tears, and this really tugged at his heart, embarrassingly enough. He literally couldn't stop himself from moving forward and placing his hands on her shoulders.

Elena's eyes met his in the mirror, and a jolt ran through him. Even when covered grotesquely in blood, she was so beautiful to him. All his angry feelings towards her abruptly evaporated.

"Damon," she whispered.

He licked his lips and said the first thing that came to mind, in hopes of distracting himself. He really didn't think that right then would be a good time to make his many wicked fantasies come true, especially with Stefan lurking in the next room. "So, how are you feeling?"

She stared at him unblinkingly in the mirror. "Like crap."

"What a dirty mouth you have, Ms. Gilbert. I _meant_, how do you feel with vampire blood running through your system? Because let's just say that if you _die_ in the next couple of days, you'll be immortal."

Her lips formed an O. "You mean I'll–"

"No."

Damon jerked his hands away from Elena's shoulders and turned towards the door. Stefan stood there, face covered in shadows. His expression was unreadable. "It's not your choice to make, _brother_."

"She's not meant to be one of us, Damon. She's human." _And I want her to stay that way,_ was the unspoken meaning behind Stefan's words.

Elena was frowning. "I'll think about it," she said, directing this to Stefan. Her dark eyes blazed.

Stefan said nothing for several moments. "I think we need to talk," he said.

"And _that's_ my cue to go upstairs and find some Neosporin." Damon waved, then darted out the door. Heading upstairs, he forced himself with every ounce of willpower he possessed not to eavesdrop. He was likely to be badmouthed a few times by Stefan, if things turned out the way he thought.

He couldn't believe everything was finally falling into place. He'd been _so sure_ that Elena would drop him like a hot potato, despite her professed 'I love you' statement, the moment she and Stefan had interacted again. But apparently even he could guess wrong sometimes, unbelievably enough. He and Elena could finally be together. And if he played his cards right, they might even get to spend eternity in each other's arms. _If_ he could convince her to die before the vampire blood was out of her system.

Despite the fact that he still ached all over, Damon felt like whistling as he opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. He didn't turning on the light, instead heading right for the medicine cabinet.

Katherine's arm shot from the darkness, fingers fastening around his throat.

**

* * *

**

Katherine's not finished yet! Oh, and I hope Bonnie had a gory enough death for all of you. *evil grin*


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Only an epilogue to go after this chapter! O _ O

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as Damon left, Elena turned back to the mirror and started to wash the wounds on her neck again. She didn't look at Stefan as he stood silently behind her, though she was highly conscious of his presence. It had been five years since they'd been alone together, and part of her wanted to turn around and hug him hard enough to break all his ribs.

But another part of her _didn't_ want that. It wanted her to go after Damon, who had trudged upstairs alone, and kiss him. Probably even do _more_ than kiss him, despite her bloody throat.

Needless to say, she was feeling incredibly conflicted.

"Elena."

She turned off the faucet and turned to face him, hugging herself with both arms. "You look better," she said. And it was true. Even more color had returned to his pallid face; drinking the chicken blood Jeremy had given them had improved his health tremendously.

He nodded.

"I'm…I'm glad you're finally free from Katherine," she said, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. "She, um, held you captive for a long time."

"Yes," Stefan said softly, "she did."

"So…what did you want to talk about?" She bit down hard on her lower lip as she waited for his reply.

He hesitated. "You and Damon."

Even though she'd been expecting it, Elena couldn't keep from wincing. "Listen, Stefan, I can explain–"

"While Damon and I were locked up in the basement together," Stefan interrupted, "he told me that the two of you kissed. Several times. And that…" He paused for a few seconds, apparently having trouble going on. "Damon didn't admit it out loud, but I could see it on his face. He _loves_ you, Elena."

She suddenly felt like her heart had exploded into millions of tiny birds that had begun fluttering around inside her chest. "Really?" she asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice. The Damon she'd known long ago never would have returned love to anyone, much less her, and she probably would have never loved him in the first place. To know that he actually cared for her – _loved_ her, even – was the best news she'd had in a long time.

Stefan nodded in response to her breathless question. "Yes, I really think he does. And we all heard what you said when the three of us were tied up on the front lawn…"

"I'm really sorry, Stefan," she blurted. "I just…I _feel_ something when I'm with Damon, something I haven't felt in years. I tried to tell myself it wasn't there, but I…I can't."

"I know," he said quietly. "That's why I'm breaking up with you. Officially, I mean. I know it's been five years since we dated and everything, but…" He shrugged helplessly.

She stared at him. "_Breaking up_ with me? I thought you'd be…" _Angry,_ she finished silently. _Or at the very least start shouting at me._ To see Stefan so calm about this, not even trying to change her mind about her decision, was startling.

"I can see it, too. I'd be blind not to," Stefan said. "When you and Damon look at each other, there's something on your faces. It's not just chemistry, or a spark. It's…love." He grimaced, averting his gaze from hers, but went on nonetheless. "You and I had something special, Elena, but that was too long ago. It would take me an impossibly long time to regain my feelings for you, which are so dim and colorless after being locked up without substance for so long. And you're _human_. I don't want to steal what's left of your life from you, trapping you in a relationship with me. I just want you to be _happy_."

Elena blinked several times, finding her vision suddenly blurred my tears. "Stefan…" she whispered.

"I mean it, Elena," he said. "My brother certainly wouldn't have been my first choice for you, but he's…different when he's with you. Better. You're like two sides of the same coin." He tried to smile at her, though he ended up looking even sadder than before. "Sorry, I know that's...cheesy. But my mind's not at its best right now, understandably."

Impulsively, she threw her arms around Stefan and hugged him tightly. "_Thank you_," she said into his ear, voice full of meaning. "Stefan, I'll never forget this."

He didn't relax his rigid stance until she let him go and stepped away, then offered her the smallest of smiles. "Could we still…be friends?" he asked uncertainly. "That would probably be hard on all of us, but I really don't want to lose your friendship, Elena."

She nodded without having to think about it. "Of course." She glanced past him into the hallway. "Um. I guess I'd better go check on Damon," she said awkwardly. "He's been gone for a while."

"Probably eavesdropping on this whole conversation," Stefan said, evidently attempting to lighten the moment with a joke.

"I wouldn't doubt it." Heart feeling lighter than it had in a very long time, Elena walked to the foot of the stairs. "Damon, you can come out now!" she called.

Something moved in the shadows at the top of the stairs. There was a strange sound, like someone choking.

Elena froze, brow furrowing deeply. For some reason, goosebumps broke out across her skin. "Damon?"

Then Damon's limp body tumbled down the stairs, falling head-over-heels through the murky half-darkness. Elena screamed, just as he slammed so hard into the front door that he nearly burst right through the wood and incinerated himself on the front porch. Thankfully, whoever had built the door had made it sturdy.

"Damon, oh my God! Are you okay?" Elena dropped to her knees beside him as he groaned and tried failingly to sit up. She cupped his face in one hand, peering down into his half-lidded eyes. "Damon, what _happened_?"

He squinted at her, eyes glassy and blood trickling from a small cut on the side of his face. Five red marks covered the front of his throat. "Katherine…" he croaked.

Elena froze and glanced slowly towards the stairs, dropping her hand from Damon's face. Her almost-twin stood at the top of the stairs, face concealed with shadows. "Katherine," she whispered, throat constricting on itself with horror.

"You didn't really think I'd give up _that_ easily, did you?" she purred.

Stumbling to her feet, Elena put herself between Damon and Katherine, trying to seem brave. "I won't let you do this," she said waveringly. "Just leave Damon and Stefan alone. _Please_."

Katherine tilted her head to one side, almost like she was considering. Then she flashed her gleaming white teeth in a sinister smile. "No, I think not." Before Elena could react, she blurred down the stairs with an inhuman speed, headed right for the still-stunned Damon–

Stefan was there. He slammed into Katherine just in time, and the two tumbled sideways. They both crashed into the wall before hitting the floor, and left a person-sized dent in the sheetrock. Katherine was back to her feet instantaneously, a snarl of pure rage curling her lips. Her eyes cracked and darkened as she hissed at Stefan.

"Don't do this, Katherine," he pleaded quietly, flipping to his feet and making soothing motions. "There's no reason for us to keep fighting like this. You've lost. Just leave Mystic Falls, and let the rest of us get on with our lives."

Dark fury snapped like lightning in her eyes. "No," she growled, the sound making goosebumps rise on Elena's arms. "I don't _lose_, Stefan. Not _ever_. I refuse to let you take this town away from me."

"Listen to yourself. This town belongs to the people who _live_ here," Stefan said. "Not you, not any of us. Can't we just try to forget that this ever happened? I'm willing to forgive you–"

Katherine roared. That's the only way to describe the sound of animalistic rage, which bubbled up from her throat and filled the air. Then she threw herself at Stefan, clawed fingers outstretched and reaching for his throat. He tried to step out of the way, but wasn't fast enough. They collided with a terrible crashing sound, slamming through the wall and into the living room.

Elena choked with horror, and listened for a moment, completely paralyzed, to the sounds of terrible struggle that she could hear in her own living room. Then she bent over Damon, whose eyes had slipped closed. She started shaking him, trying to jolt him back into awareness. Stefan couldn't fight Katherine on his own; she was far too powerful. He needed help!

"Damon, wake up! Damon!" she shouted, fingernails digging into his shoulders. Still he didn't stir. He seemed to be out cold.

She frantically glanced around for something that could help. Her gaze landed on the doorway into the kitchen.

* * *

Damon gasped awake as a stream of cold water hit him directly in the face. His eyes flew open, revealing nothing but a large gray blur. He blinked several times, then realized the blur was actually Elena, standing over him and holding an empty glass. An expression of terror was on her face. "Damon, get up!" she cried.

"Who taught you such _appalling_ manners?" he asked irritably, struggling to sit up. He could barely breathe through his bruised throat, and his head was spinning.

She didn't seem to hear him, continuing on like he'd never spoken. "Katherine's going to kill Stefan!"

Her words sank in almost instantly, and he staggered to his feet. He almost fell over again, bare arm passing dangerously close to a patch of sunlight that trickled in through a window. He noticed for the first time the sounds of battle that came from just out of sight, in the living room: a shattering lamp, a splintering table, a tearing curtain.

Everything came back to him then, despite the fogginess of his mind. Katherine had ambushed him in the upstairs bathroom, choked him to unconsciousness. That was all he remembered, up until now, but it was more than enough.

"Elena, stay here," he said quickly. "I'll take care of it." He didn't want to chance her getting hurt; she was just a fragile human, and Katherine could all too easily snap her neck or impale her with a chair leg. If something like that happened, he would never forgive himself.

"Don't–" she began desperately.

He ignored her, racing into the living room without giving himself time to think that it could possibly be the last time he ever saw her. If Katherine killed him, which shouldn't be too hard in his weakened state, then he and Elena would never get the chance to be together. He forced such depressing thoughts from his mind as he rounded the corner into the living room.

Katherine had pinned Stefan by a window, where sunlight was filtering in freely through the broken glass. Blood streamed from a cut on the side of his head, and Katherine was trying to pull off his ring. It was obvious how she intended to kill him.

Damon's eyes darted around the room, landing on a wooden rocking chair in the far corner. He ran over, picked it up, and raised it above his head. Then he charged towards Katherine, just as she pulled the ring from Stefan's finger, and swung the chair like a baseball bat.

He ignored the excruciating pain as his arms and the side of his face began sizzling. The chair contacted with Katherine's head, and she collapsed to the carpet. He threw the chair aside and grabbed for Stefan, who was already burning from the toxic light. More pain exploded through his body, but he continued to ignore it, dragging Stefan to safety. The ring lay in the pool of sunlight, unreachable.

Katherine got to her feet, breathing heavily. Blood matted her curls, and she looked positively murderous. "You," she said in a voice that sounded demonic, "are going to _pay_ for that."

What felt like tongues of fire sizzled up and down his arms. Damon spared them a small glance, and saw that they were a strange gray color. He couldn't risk exposing himself to any more sunlight, or his luck would finally run out. Stefan looked even worse, covered in blistering burns, but he was alive, and that was what mattered.

Pushing thoughts of his own pain to the back of his mind, Damon stepped between his brother and Katherine. He fixed a charming smile onto his lips. "Come and get some, _Kathy_," he sneered.

She lunged at him, fangs flashing as she tried to latch onto his neck. He dodged her just in time, using an expertly-aimed kick to sweep her legs out from under her. She regained her balance before she could fall and spun at him again.

Damon stood and waited for her, careful distance between him and the windows, allowing the smallest of smirks. When she was almost on him, he reached for the rocking chair again and threw it at her. It broke into scraps of wood as it bounced off her chest. She was too angry to feel it, and only paused slightly before continuing forward.

She crashed into him, hands immediately going for his throat as her momentum carried them both to the floor. Damon's back hit the carpet hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, then he threw both arms up to hold her off him. She hissed and slashed one hand over his face. A burst of pain blossomed across his left cheek as her nails drew blood, then he brought one knee up into her stomach and forced her to the floor.

While she was still stunned, he rolled over to lie on top of her, holding her down. "Just like the old days, eh?"

She tried to scratch him again, but he easily caught her hand in one of his. "Simmer down, Katherine. This is it. You've lost."

"_No_," she snarled, and butted her head against Damon's. He saw stars, and fell backwards. It took a few moments before his vision cleared, then he found himself lying on his back, Katherine standing over him and holding a broken leg from the rocking chair to his throat. Its splintered end was more than sharp enough to skewer him, as he was uncomfortably aware of.

She smiled coldly at him. The thrill of winning shone in her eyes. "Give up yet, _darling_?"

He didn't break eye contact with her, even as he noticed the movement behind her with his peripheral vision. "What if I don't? Are you going to _kill_ me?"

She nodded, still smiling. "Of course. You know the rules."

"Not really," he said. "Aren't you going to…explain them to me?"

Now that she was sure victory was firmly in her grasp, Katherine looked bored. "What do you want, Damon? You know I can't possibly let you live. You've only been here two _days_, and you've already torn down everything I've been striving towards for five _years_."

He slowly reached towards her face, brushing the back of it against her cheek. He forced himself not to show what he really felt for her on his face, trying to convince himself that the woman above him was actually Elena. "I want things to be like they were before," he said eloquently. "Just the two of us. We could be immortal together, rule over Mystic Falls and crush those like my brother who dare stand in our way."

Her bottom lip came out in a pout, and her grip on the chair leg loosened slightly. "Why should I believe you? Everything you've done since escaping the tomb has been against me."

"I thought you liked it when I made things…interesting," Damon murmured. Now he pulled her down towards him, and she didn't resist. His cold lips whispered against her cheek. "So what do you say? Should we dispose of my pathetic _brother_ and rule wretched this town…as one?"

She still looked reluctant. "I don't know, Damon…"

"Sure you do. Listen." He pressed his lips to hers, fighting to keep his expression smooth. Years before, he would have given anything to be in this situation: Katherine straddling his hips, lips working against his. But now…now he wanted to fling her aside like a rag doll. She was nothing but a power-hungry monster, he could see that now. It was Elena he loved, sweet and _human_ Elena. He wanted nothing more than to be with _her_ for an eternity.

"Damon," Katherine murmured against his lips. She sounded slightly dazed.

He didn't answer, instead deepening the kiss. He ran one hand through her long curls, stroking her hand with the other. The hand with her ring on it.

Stefan chose that moment to wrap his arms around her from behind and throw her across the room. Her lips were torn away Damon's, and she gave a strangled shriek of rage. She lay on her side and glared venomously at Damon as he flipped nonchalantly to his feet, holding her ring. "Missing something?"

"I'm going to _enjoy_ killing you, Damon," she said in a voice that was dangerously quiet. She got up, chair leg lying broken and forgotten at her feet, and clenched her hands into fists.

Damon slipped her ring casually onto his finger, smirking at the look on her face. If looks could kill…well, he'd be much deader than he already was. "Thanks for the save, brother," he told Stefan, who was circling just behind Katherine. His gray skin still looked scorched, but much better than it had been.

Stefan nodded silently, giving Damon a small smile of acknowledgment.

Katherine ran at Damon, apparently unable to stand another second in their company. Damon darted lightly backwards, into the hallway beside the stairs. As she came right at him, he grabbed the banister and swung himself around, delivering at forceful double-kick to her stomach. She went down with a roar as Stefan appeared behind her, carefully staying away from any traces of sunlight.

She got back up, but slower this time. She was bleeding in several places, from various wounds, and was growing decidedly weaker. She wouldn't be able to stand up to both Salvatore brothers for much longer.

"Give up yet, _darling_?" Damon asked blatantly, copying her words from just minutes earlier.

She didn't reply, chest heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath.

"Well, not that this hasn't been _fun_, but I think it's time to wrap things up," Damon decided, making a show of cracking his knuckles. He glanced around for something he could use as a weapon to end his ex's prolonged vampric existence.

"Damon, catch!" Elena, standing at the far end of the hall, tossed him a black-handled knife from the kitchen. He expertly caught it, brandishing the blade like a machete.

"Sorry, Katherine," he said, tone conveying just the opposite. "You know how it is. You've just been meddling in my plans, and I don't like that." He flashed a crooked grin, glancing towards Elena. She was watching him with a hopeful look on her face. "So I'm afraid it's time for you to–"

Katherine leapt forward while he was distracted, and grabbed the knife. It slipped from his hand before he could react. She whirled and plunged the knife into…

Stefan.

It entered the side of his throat, and a small squirt of blood spurted freely, splattering the wall. Everyone stood frozen, staring with horror at Stefan. He seemed more surprised than anyone else, mouth wide open and hand slowly reaching up to touch the protruding knife.

Damon couldn't breathe. His throat felt like it had closed up completely. His vision was suddenly obscured by tears as he stared at Stefan, who was staring back at him with shock. "Stefan–" he choked out, wanting to look away but unable to. His eyes were glued to the horrific sight, to all the blood that was wetting Stefan's shirt and the carpet. His little brother was dying. For good, this time. There was nothing he could do.

And it was all his fault.

Elena was making strange gasping sounds. But Damon didn't let himself look at her. He knew he would break down completely if he did. A single tear trailed down his cheek.

Katherine laughed, breaking the horrified silence. "Well, what do you know! Damon Salvatore _can_ cry."

He felt himself shaking, hands hanging loosely at his sides. A strange deadness was sweeping through his entire body, followed closely by a white hot rage to launch himself at Katherine and tear her to pieces. But despite these intentions, he couldn't move. He had been frozen in place, and it had nothing to do with a witch's spell.

Stefan's dark eyes met Damon's. They were starting to go glassy already, his stubbornness the only thing holding him to the fragile thread of life. One hand was slippery with his own blood where he touched the jutting knife. His white lips moved as he tried to say something, but the only thing that came out was a trickle of blood. He looked towards Damon's hand, where he wore Katherine's ring.

"No–" Damon exclaimed, but it was too late.

Stefan grabbed the unsuspecting Katherine by her wrist and jerked her towards him. He still had enough strength to fling himself out the window just beside the front door, glass shattering loudly as he and Katherine fell out to the porch. She kicked and fought, shrieking with fury, but Stefan didn't let go as he rolled down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. They were completely exposed to the brutal rays of sunlight streaming down.

"_No_!" Damon shouted, every bit of anguish and horror he felt exploding out of him in that single word.

Stefan and Katherine both froze, jerked several times, then burst into flames. Unnatural fire crackled all around them, turning their bodies into dry ash. They were both screaming in pain, Stefan's cries tearing what little remained of Damon's heart from his chest.

The whole process took only a few seconds, though it felt like forever to Damon as he watched. When it was over, the flames abruptly dissipated, leaving two large piles of gray-white dust on the sidewalk. Stefan and Katherine were no more.

Damon's legs shook, and he grabbed at the railing of the staircase to keep from falling over.

Elena raced past him, stumbling to a halt at the shattered window. Her scream only made things a hundred times worse for the one surviving Salvatore brother. "_Stefannnn_!"

**

* * *

**

D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D:

***wails* **

***cries***

***sobs***

***collapses to the ground***

**Please review.**


	20. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** _The Vampire Diaries_ isn't mine. Though I _do_ have a secret plan to change that and make Damon my very own… *cackles evilly*

**A/N:** Thanks so much for all the reviews, everyone. Enjoy the final update of _Risveglio di un Nuovo Mondo_. And be sure to have fun watching _The Return_ tonight! (I know I will! :D)

* * *

Epilogue

Elena ran outside, throwing herself down onto her knees. She didn't seem to notice the hard concrete, bending over the pile of ashes that had been Stefan and sobbing.

Behind her, Damon was leaning against the railing of the staircase, since his legs for some reason couldn't support his weight. He was staring at the twin piles of ashes outside with a horrified expression, unable to process what he'd just seen. It was…incomprehensible. Stefan _couldn't_ be dead. How could he? Stefan wouldn't leave him here all alone, to face an eternity alone. That just wasn't _him_.

Chest feeling tight, Damon pushed himself away from the railing. His legs were no more than wooden planks as he slowly staggered out onto the front porch. Glass crunched beneath his shoes, but he barely heard it. He was experiencing tunnel vision, everything except that one pile of ashes before Elena a senseless blur of gray.

His entire being was screaming for him to do what he did best, to simply run away and never look back. But he didn't. Instead, he forced himself to walk forward, until he was standing over Elena.

Her shoulders were shaking, and she was crying like she'd never stop. Damon wanted desperately to make her stop, but he didn't even know how to help himself. There was a raw wound deep inside him now, caused by Stefan's incredible sacrifice. It was excruciating.

He cleared his throat, trying fiercely to keep a hold of himself. "Elena–"

She didn't answer, only crying harder.

Damon took a deep breath, ignoring the wetness he could feel pooling in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, but it refused to go away. The sun was blazing across the sky, and birds continued to chirp from various positions across the front lawn. None of it fit with what Damon thought the day should be like. There should have been black thunderclouds, and forks of lightning flashing across the sky. The weather should have been echoing how he felt inside, dark and strangely empty.

"_Damn_ it, Stefan!" he shouted, words tearing from his lips with a vicious force. They echoed down the whole street. "How could you _do_ this to us?"

"Damon, don't," Elena wept, grabbing blindly at his pants leg. "Please _don't_."

He swallowed hard, looking at her again. Her eyes were red, streaming with a constant flood of tears, and she was staring pleadingly up at him. Her expression was hard to decipher, but it was obvious that she felt pity for him. Him, Damon Salvatore. Why should she? He didn't care that Stefan was dead, had done something so stupid as to destroy himself to destroy Katherine. He didn't care–

Damon's shoulders sagged, then he crouched down beside Elena, unconsciously grinding his teeth together. Reluctantly, he let his gaze turn towards the ashes; there was no way to avoid it any longer. They looked nothing like his brother had, solemn and full of life. They were a neutral gray-white, not arranged in any particular shape.

That's what made him break down. He bowed his head, lips locked tightly together, as tears fell down his cheeks. For once in his immortal life, he didn't care that he was actually crying where someone else could see him. He let the tears take him over, shoulders shuddering with the force of his anguish.

And then, even though he was supposed to be the one comforting her, Elena leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. He didn't resist, instead leaning into the welcome embrace.

The two of them sat there beside the ashes, crying like they would never stop, in each other's arms.

* * *

Elena was sitting on the ground in the Mystic Falls graveyard.

Stefan's funeral had been two days ago. It had been a ceremony with an exclusive guest list: Alaric, Tyler, Caroline, Matt, Jeremy. They had hired a minister to oversee the modest memorial service, then put the elaborate wooden coffin containing Stefan's ashes into a grave near where Elena's own parents were buried. The gravestone, which Alaric had generously donated funds for, read: _Here lines Stefan Salvatore, 1847-1864. Friend, brother, son._ Everyone had thought it best not to put the date of Stefan's vampire death on the gravestone, which could have raised some awkward questions later on.

Things had slowly been returning to normal since the day of Stefan's death. Word had been spreading like wildfire that Mayor Lockwood was dead, as were all the vampires who had been plaguing the town. Bonnie's body had also been discovered. Elena hadn't attended the funeral.

Elena took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Raising one hand, she traced Stefan's name where it was carved into the marble with two fingers. "I'll miss you," she whispered, blinking rapidly when tears flooded her eyes. She'd been crying a lot the past couple of days, but not just over Stefan.

She had barely seen Damon since that terrible morning. He had come to the funeral in a black leather jacket, lingering silently near the back of the church. He'd left as soon as the coffin was buried, saying hardly anything. Even to her. He had been completely closed off to the rest of the world. She was starting to get scared that she'd...lost him.

That was why she'd called him at the Salvatore mansion ten minutes earlier, before coming here. They needed to talk, before he tried to run off and leave her behind. She wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Almost as though summoned by her thoughts, a voice came from just behind her. "You rang?"

"Damon." She turned around quickly, bare arm brushing the smooth surface of Stefan's gravestone. He was standing a few feet away, dressed all in black. He was completely expressionless, and his eyes looked almost black. "I needed to see you."

"So I gathered, from that phone call," he said, without coming any closer. "This needs to be quick; I've got a very full social calendar."

Elena could tell from his voice that he was lying. "Damon, come here," she said firmly.

He stared at her for a few more seconds, then slowly stepped over to her. He lowered himself down onto the closely-cropped grass.

"We need to talk," she said.

"Do we?" For some reason, Damon wasn't looking at her, or even Stefan's grave. He was gazing off into the distance, lips in a tight line.

"Damon." She impulsively grabbed his chin in one hand, turning his head towards her. Surprise flashed across his face, but she ignored it. "Where have you been? You haven't been around at all since…since the funeral," she said.

"I've been busy," he said. "Cleaning all of Katherine's crap out of the mansion and burning it in the backyard. You'd been surprised at how much she collected over five years."

Elena had a fleeting mental image of Damon dancing around a bonfire in the backyard as he burned everything of Katherine's. "I thought you'd stop by the house," she said. "But you haven't."

"Busy," he said, looking away from her again.

Spontaneously, Elena leaned towards him and brushed a kiss across his lips. They were full and warm. He sighed against her mouth, and she felt his eyelashes flutter softly across her temple as he closed his eyes. Then he stiffened and pulled away. "Don't," he said in a hoarse voice.

She stared at him, trying her best not to get angry. It seemed wrong to fight in a graveyard. "What's wrong? Tell me," she said. "I can tell, Damon. You weren't like this before, whenever we kissed. From what I recall, you even seemed to _like_ it. So what gives?"

His eyes met hers. "I'm leaving Mystic Falls, Elena. I don't belong here anymore. Especially not with you."

All the breath was suddenly sucked from Elena's lungs. The whole world seemed to be spinning. "_What_?" she breathed, the single word hardly audible even to her own ears. He was leaving? Leaving _her_? The way he talked, it was like he had never even cared about her. Elena felt like she was going to be sick.

"It's just not…we're not right together," Damon said. He was finally looking at Stefan's grave, dark eyes very bright. "Sure, there's a spark there, but it's nothing permanent. We're just attracted to one another because it's forbidden." He spoke quickly, like he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve.

And Elena saw right through him.

"Forbidden? Oh, Damon," she gasped. A sudden laugh bubbled from her lips before she could stop herself, she was so immensely relieved. "You didn't _know_; you weren't listening to our conversation, because Katherine was choking you upstairs."

He remained silent, jaw clenching.

"St…Stefan and I were talking in the downstairs bathroom that day, after you left," she said, waiting for realization to dawn on his face. "He _broke up with me_, Damon. There's no need for you to feel like…like you're betraying Stefan by being with me. We weren't a couple anymore when he–he died."

Something unreadable passed over Damon's face, too quickly to be identified. His shoulders sagged, like a strong tension had been removed from his body. "He…broke up with you?"

She scooted across the grass to sit closer to him, leg brushing his through their jeans. "Yes, Damon. He did." Why hadn't she seen it sooner? She'd almost believed that he had actually _meant_ everything he'd been saying. She'd been _so_ close to losing him forever, just because he felt some twisted sort of honor to his brother's memory.

He was holding himself very still, staring at her strangely. What looked almost like hope lingered in his eyes. "Elena–"

She took his hand in hers; it felt cold against her skin. "I've decided," she said.

Damon frowned. "I get the feeling this should be a touching moment," he said. "But I have no idea what you're talking about."

She smiled, taking a deep breath. "I've decided that I want to be with you," she said softly. "Forever."

Comprehension dawned on his face. "You mean…you want someone to off you so you can be a vampire?"

Elena couldn't help it; she rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's what I mean. And it would be better if you could put it in nicer terms than that, Damon Salvatore. This is a really big decision for me, you know." She tried to insert the right amount of bravado into her voice, to hide the fear she felt. Becoming a vampire was something she couldn't change after it happened. It was completely permanent.

He looked at her with a heated intensity. "Elena, are you sure? Once you decide to go fanged, there's no going back. I know _I_ didn't want it when I was given the choice back in 1864."

She tightened her hand around his. "I'm sure," she said. Leaning towards him, stopping just before their lips could touch, she whispered, "I love you."

Their lips met, and what felt like tongues of fire exploded all through Elena's body. She pressed herself closer to Damon, who this time didn't resist.

Finally, everything felt right.

**

* * *

**

I just wanted to say thanks again to everyone who stuck with this story all the way through. It's definitely one of my personal favorites of all the stories I've written so far. I hope to see all of you (well, sort of) at another story again soon!

**I'm sort of toying with several ideas for a sequel. Would it be too confusing to read, with the new season playing on TV at the same time? What do you think?**


End file.
